Amid a valley washed in gray
Roots entangled in decay
I stand a tree of twisted branches
Reeking vile, lonely lies
Lustful beauty masks my sorrow
Scarlet gorgeous, shuns tomorrow.
No youthful daisy, gentle wisp,
May gather life where I exist
For widespread roots of blind deceit
Take from all whom they might meet.
Yet, my branches flush with fever
When the season, hungry, eager,
Dons the sun for mischief summer
And blooms a scarlet-fevered lover.
Emblazoned branches blush for wanting,
Sinful lust and red lips taunting,
Forbidden fruit sprung of his palm,
Upon my bark he carved a psalm.
Sung in passion, this summer season
Robs the strong of rhyme or reason.
Artificially unencumbered,
Blind to sinfulness unnumbered,
I stood full-bloom within the sun,
Exposed, no wrongful pride undone.
Tranfused vivacious, dead of gray,
But the seasons change today.
Beauty slain, a scarlet end,
Branches heavy, sad bows bend.
Dismal death, and dread-gray tarnished,
Over, over, he is vanished,
And I am alone again, in unquiet darkness.
Shed gorgeous flower for ugly starkness,
Colors flee from blinded glasses,
As scarlet petals fall to ashes.

 
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