like the climbing vine, we all. fade,,

In the tender soil the seed sleeps,

till the silver trumpets,

trickle down in a wake up call.

Slowly, the shield splits,

and the green cascades forth,

hesitantly into the light,

while deep below, tendrils seek security.

Cautiously, the leaves spread themselves,

stretching upwards towards the sun,

starving for invisible warmth.

Cruel laughter cuts the air,

as bitter hands tear at the stalk,

ignoring the silent screams.

Trampled and faded,

the plant still bare of blossoms,

save a single, unopened bud.

As the heavy footsteps fade away,

the corpse begins to wither.

While deep below,

the hidden roots seek comfort,

in the darkness.

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~ by theautumnfall on May 13, 2008.