Life in the holy tree.


Too many gems shattered to dust,
So many smiles turned upside down,
The wind in her hair grew unruly,
And his smoke led the way for his smoke.

The night was peaceful,
Not so much the day,
When the flowers piled up to bid goodbye,
They didn't seem lovely and kind for the first time.

The sand was letting go of the golden roots,
The flowers had blossomed just fine,
And when the time was up for the stock to protect,
The wind in her hair grew unruly,
And uprooted the life in the holy tree.

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This Poems Story

After the increased occurrences of articles about people's death, I was very emotionally affected. So, I tried to jot down my feelings in words, as that's the best I know and could do. For me, a family is like a tree. The roots being the mother, who binds and holds together the family; the trunk being the father, that shield the tender kids from the harsh world ; and the children being the tender, blossoming, delicate flowers, who find shelter in the branches of a tree, till till they're ready to form a family of their own. In this poem, I personify a person's death to the uprooting of a tree, and describe how such a timely but painful death influences the beloved ones.