The Fruitful Tree

A swarm of longings flanking like bees around the tree that once stood free Stole it's fruits, shoots were torn, It stood bare while the bees scorned Bees needled around the shred roots- as nails hammered in the hooves Ate the roots, sucked the life, No breath was left, no branch to survive The bareness, The death and cause so small, A tree of fruit is victim to all A wave of wind then slightly kicks, Feeling no brown but only bricks Never it saw this eerie sight, The fruitful tree fell off the might..