Dead Meadow

My heart, it burns

In tall and dying grass,

And wind, it gives

The fire living chance

To spread consuming flames

Across this field

Where once this barren ground

Did blossoms yield,

And trees gave shade

To creatures great and small

That now are hanging on

A hunter’s wall;

But in them all the grievance

I did claim,

I grieve for claiming them

By other names.

And in my shameful tears

I only dream

That I shall weep enough

To rain a stream,

And douse these flames

To quench this thirsty place;

To no more all those living things

Displace.

So leave me be to cry

Upon my knees,

And let the pain run deeper

Than I please;

For all that matters now

Is life complete-

That living should remain

So bittersweet.


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