The Willow and The Oak

All of life set ablaze

destruction showing its sad lonely head

proves the sorrow is still dead

all our sadness kept in the bottle

till it shatters and scatters like the dust on the wind

on the morrow

yet to be sad in this "wonderful" world is the crime

yet we wish to be not taking the time

our world,

willow, with its strong bark, and soul bends with the wind

our souls,

Oak with its easily shattered grain, lives forever no matter the pain

hark,

those with shattered hearts do hear "thy end is near"

with the words of the wind, our souls smashed and torn from its final life

cast to the winds we flourish to be trampled again