Loss

I would run freely,

Amidst the ancient guardians,

My hands tracing across them,

Their trunks wrinkled like the old ones.

Under my feet a velvet green blanket,

Soft moss and delicate flora,

Cushion my running feet,

Before springing back as if I hadn’t been.

Happy days of laughter and song,

Mingle with the orchestra of nature,

A cacophony of noise unbridled,

Up to the highest branches and beyond.

Then the darkness came,

Curtailed my movement to a crawl,

Sadness took a hold of me,

Replacing where once happiness resided.

Iron mechanical beasts,

Hell bent on evil and destruction, 

Cared little for stature and station,

Ripping from the ground the ones I loved.

Now I sit with tear filled eyes,

Ancient ones no longer standing tall,

The emerald carpet is nothing but mud,

The music has fallen silent.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown