Blue bright sky
Pure puffy clouds lye high
A few lonely black birds fleeting
To escape Jack Frost’s screaming
Howling winds, bring the clouds to life
Making them seem to thrive
Above this dying world

They show the most vitality
Drifting farther and farther away from me
Away from the cold
Evading the old
To go and begin a new
With a bright background of blue
Above this dying world

The trees are bare and vacant
In a place that is so impatient
The hustle and bustle of man
Honk, ring, crash, it’s no wonder the clouds ran
The branches, however
Seem to be ignorant of the weather
Above this dying world

They are seeking, searching, reaching, for something more
Growing, growing it’s not even a chore
Going closer to the waning moon
Greying skies will conquer the hues soon
The higher they go, the farther they’ll fall
Losing what they gained, losing it all
On top of this dying world

On the countless trees
The leaves are only three
All the others have fallen
Into the forgotten
Buried farther and farther as more get piled on
Never to see the light as another dawn
On top of this dying world

Crisp smell of night
The diming light
Burning wood, and melting s’mores
Warm tea will warm your core
So go inside
From the weather you’ll hide
Escape this dying world.