The thunder rolls
Just a few seconds before
The lightning strikes.
The tree stands
All alone
In a barren, quiet field.
Its branches blow and
Its leaves rattle,
Endlessly,
In the humid summer night.
The wind picks up speed
And strength,
Plowing through
Whatever happens to be in its way.
The tree is young,
Lacking the knowledge
And experience.
The thunder is
A warning,
But who
Really listens?
The lightning strikes;
The tree is split
In half,
Forever broken.
Just a few seconds before
The lightning strikes.
The tree stands
All alone
In a barren, quiet field.
Its branches blow and
Its leaves rattle,
Endlessly,
In the humid summer night.
The wind picks up speed
And strength,
Plowing through
Whatever happens to be in its way.
The tree is young,
Lacking the knowledge
And experience.
The thunder is
A warning,
But who
Really listens?
The lightning strikes;
The tree is split
In half,
Forever broken.
