Crying Forest Poem by Death's Shadow

The brittle
golden leaves
turn over in the wind.

The light blue sky darkens,
as he talks.

The first icy drops of water fall
and mix with the warm drops
falling off my cheeks.

His voice,
soft as velvet,
cuts through me,
hard as steel.

The trees sway,
until they finally fall.
I lay on the ground,
listening to his footsteps
fade into the distance.

Fog rolls in silently,
bluring the images.
Warm tears
chase each other down my cheek.

The fog creeps out,
leaving only darknes
and confusion in its wake.