The leaves
of this
mighty oak,
do once again fade,
and
fall to the ground.
They leave me
standing
naked
and
bare,
as
winters
cold
chill
be known.
This is me,
without her love,
as she has
left me
all alone.
Will there come
a warm spring day,
when the sun
once more
does shine,
that blossoms
might bloom?
And could I ever
grow green again,
with foliage
that reaches
for sky,
and grow the fruits
of a love
that does stay?
