A Sorrowful Tomorrow

There is no peace in the eaves of unsettled trees,

There is no hope when rivers cease and all of those who sing are lost,

There are no more fires as one begins to slumber from another winter’s kiss,

Collapse into the frozen abyss,

Where the willows will find another again.

While the humming’s of spring do not grieve,

Nor do they forget the forsaken.

Many birds will sing the soul’s sorrows in the heavy rains of tomorrow,

Only then storms will follow.

Careful to carve out the heart,

When the pulse is the mere phantom of the calling,

Carry not all forgotten but remember the leaves are falling.