One solitary tree stands in isolation
On a simple hill
Its withered and worn branches
Are fighting to keep their will
It has no friends who stay with it,
And last the whole year's seasons.
Its only visits are oft from birds,
Who forget him with no reasons?
As days go on it watches the sunsets
Wishing to start anew.
Everyday watching the rising and setting
Wanting it to be him up there in the blue.
It longs for it, it yearns for it,
But it shall never come.
This poor old tree in a dying state
Is starting to be numb.
Though dying it still wants to
Start once more,
To be one small, learning to live,
And striving for life's open door.
And though it struggles with
Its last and dying breath
Wanting to live but slowly easing into death,
It still stands with pride
For he knows now dying is the
End of life's winding ride.