A pumpkin destroyed by the worlds greed
A splash of color amidst grey longing
Hiding in the heart of the cacophony
Of machines human jealousy built
Loud noises, seeping oil to the very roots
Of history, hurting and breaking the living
A pumpkin lost within branches and vines
Intertwined as lovers embrace
The only color of a world slowly fading
Sliding into a winter of sadness
Where colors are gone, and life stopped
Still silence of whiteness everywhere
But there was one orange spot left
Far across the distance, small as a pea
Dangling over the precipice of death
A deep, bottomless swamp that contained
The most horrifying of secrets
Misery, desolation and despair
An anvil chorus of gloomy grief
Tormenting it, sending a shudder from the tip
But it hung strong, conquered winds and storms
With a small twinge of delight
A pumpkin lost and found again
To the hands of young hearts
Who saved an innocent fruit of a vine
Left to die by unwise souls