White death 

The trees now so lush and green

With ripened fruits adorning it. 

Breathing leaves flapping their wings 

To welcome the wind to brush against it. 

But one day it will be all gone… 

The tree, it’s trunk, 

Fruits and green. 

Life will bow down to death, 

The urge to feel the wind slaughtered and shred. 

The chainsaw will spill blood and guts, 

Camouflaged as dust and dirt to our eyes. 

Life will be lost to white sheets unnamed, 

Only to be crushed and burnt unstained. 

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9 responses to “White death 

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