In my delusion
I saw a desolate woman.
Looking decrepit,
she was plagued by cancer.
She doesn't know trust
or peace.
She only knows the hope
that hangs by a thread.
She's all alone, everyone is dead.
She holds her face in her hands
and hides it from the stars.
Her feet are like roots
so she cant leave like the scars
made by her memories.
She could not see me
because i was a willow tree.
she hopes someday
she'll meet them again
in a world of peace and beauty.
I cant help but wonder
if I wasn't a tree
if I would of hugged her
because she needed a sweet embrace that wasn't her own.
That night she died alone