To a wounded tree, I lean.
The roots in their holes, stay serene.
The hole has sorrow for the wounded tree.
The dead branches look at sky to see;
But their eyes are blinded and numb!
I lean to wounded tree to calm!
Oh, morning of sleepless night.
I dream to wake up with your light;
Not in a coffin filled with water,
Where I expect to see my mother!
I need rest, sleep, oh sleep!
The water flows, oh so deep!
How soothing to ears this sound of bliss;
The flowing water in coffin of kiss!
Pebbles fill it for me in this abyss.
I gather my bones, put them among-
The pebbles, so they stay strong.
Leaving the coffin, not physical me,
It is my spirit, not my entity!
My clothes stay in the water behind.
They were dirty of overusing and other kind.
The water now has…
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