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Slow Burn

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Nothing is as it was.

The fire has had its way
With these animals and these trees
And with these hearts.

The heart handles defeat slowly,
leaving closed minds and solemn stares
that lie deep within your core
to be expressed for the world to see.

Depression paints your face
With every gray shade of heartbreak
Told through a language deeper
Than could ever be vocalized.

The concentration of your mind
Has tunnel vision
And all you can see is this window of reality.

Then suddenly you awake:
To the twisting of trees
Too damaged to stand
And the smoke is everywhere.

Nothing is as it was.





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