Maybe trees are the limbs of the before,
Here to sway us in our choices
Perhaps the wind cries out each day,
The voice of those in past
Could the sun and moon be the eyes of old regret,
Hardened and burning
Have we driven them there?
Will our future sway, cry, burn?
Or will we crumble

into nothing
more

Maybe one day,
I'll spark a river to run and relinquish
Maybe one day,
I'll inspire a forest to stretch its roots
Maybe one day,
The thought of me will crumble all else
But for now I sit
Waiting for the light to shine through
My lost and never found
Potential

I twist and turn
Alone
I wish and whimper
Alone
I see and seep
Alone
If I grow more, change more, will I forevermore be
Alone?