Trees
The trees sway
The trees sing
The trees whisper
The trees sleep
Age spills from the trunk
Tufts sprout from the moss
Fragrances deafen the senses
Roots cling to false hope
Sunlight presses it's glow into the darkened maw
But wind carries echos
A tale of a black wind that devours light
A black cloud created by two-legged monsters
And so the trees give their dreams to the wind for safe keeping, hoping that their story carries on
