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  1. Leaves would descend as her journey perished.
    Should not leaves fall in Autumn?
    It was only June,
    the oak next to me still holding its abundant shape.
    Chlorophyll drained like an open wound.
    I began to weaken.
    A soul so youthful…now gone.
    Branches remained bleak,
    for weeks they could not revive me,
    even an ocean would not suffice.

    As the sun shimmered over the knoll that enchanted morning,
    men unearthed the dull prairie beneath me.
    Her delicate frame tickled my once thirsty roots.
    Feeling the force to prevail dejection,
    a soul was provoking my survival.
    I awake.
    Discovering an urgency to live,
    the cold gravestone giving me a pulse.
    Casting her a shade,
    providing protection from the burning solar.
    I can live for her.

    A towering Oak tree has been resurrected
    by a once youthful soul…now gone.
  2. The release one is looking for
    while fumbling franticly
    like life depended on it
    literally, life depending on it
    a razor slicing into naked flesh
    separating into two
    she had a hard time believing it
    having contemplated the blood that flows
    many times before
    it was a distant thought
    becoming reality
    lips forming a smile
    memories flashing
    reminders of the pain

    I think I will be happier here
    my purpose only being to suffer
    I can only sit back to watch
    watch the memories fade
    into something that is no longer a past
    just a distant memory
    that holds no meaning
    that many will soon forget
    and look past
    no longer here
    I cant worry
    won't cry
    I am where I should be
    blood spilling down
    trying to feel the release
    but don't...
    still feeling pain
    the remorse...
    then one I've never felt until now:
    defeat.