The oak had a song sung from its branches. A melody

A Gentle Breeze Warm crowns of light Rustling trees The summer’s delight Gossamer threads

Death is peace, death is silence, death is final. There can be no further pain. But there can be no further hope.

Because of what I have done, these failures were just too much. This final fall with follow me Forever. There were no harsh words,

Much have I wandered From one life to another. My sorrows I have pondered, injustices that threaten to smothe… A mind of barbs and brambles

I wander the desert an empty jug my only possession. My water has long run dry, my lips now used to

The one I Love most. My outlet of reason, The voice through the phone. A mirror of sorts.

Alone I stand Pondering my arts the fruits of my labors. All is good and I lay down my bru… But there is a voice,

I think I understand Why Adam took that bite. To throw away Eden, peace, love, God’s favor. Because, in the end,

People assume it is about the catch, the prize. And, for some it is. But for me, it is so much

First, A mistake. Quicksand. Second, A broken promise.