Melancholia

redwood2

I close my eyes and hear leaves rustling;

The wind blowing through dried trees.

Rememberance of an Autumn that once was,

When you possessed empathy and compassion;

Before you became consumed by hate and anger…

The melodic voice once whispered in my ears;

Is replaced by indignance and harsh words,

Perceived by you as the honest, brutal truth.

Now only others see the side that I once saw;

What was Aeons ago in the seemingly distant past.

Yet still prettier than ever on this Autumn day…

Envy for those others rears its ugly head.

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