Tree On The Hill Poem by Tyler Marshall

Wheels creek in the morning rise,
and though I know not what become of you
to witness the breath of life once dried
a hallowing ego masked and left angry

The barrings turn over leveled dirt
and droplets of water make way down my cheek
Is it from the rain, I wonder?
The casket rests upon the back like a polished antique
Its clean oak furnish, the striking of thunder

The glooming aura of impending doom
My horses nigh with a sigh of thirst,
and I see into her eye with a cry for life
though all things must end, the crowd dispersed

Wheels creak in evenings descent,
and now I know what became of you
to witness the breath of life once dried,
Her lifeless corpse hanging from a tree