A traveler has traveled far and wide,
Lost in the plains of yellow flowers and Poppies
He saw the tree that stood
An Oak tree it was, with stream of water from underneath.
A reflection of his image he saw,
A fallacy he denied.
Like a fool he talk to trees and skies
The west wind blew and his heart felt
Heard his name sorrow, thus the wind Whispers
“A man is weight by the sorrow in his heart”
Thirsty, he drank from the stream.
Bitter it was, but the stream was as clear as the sea
An epiphany he had, the taste of bitterness,
Was from his heart, the taste of sorrow.
Green grass withered and the sun died,
Illuminated by the night skies;
He mocks the heavens
And he curses the ground.
The heaven cried out,
“Man is imprisoned in the passage of time”
The stars died too
The stream dried out and came a man
“I am thy sorrow, thy need, thy fallacy”.
“I live in denial, for I know not the man I see,
I know not of my weight, my sorrows”
“The yolk of life that I carry has undone me”
“Emptiness in a man’s heart is the presences of grief
Atlas! How well did my heart grief” said he
“How well did my heart swallowe’d”
Darkness came over the plain,
the beauty was shunt from man.
A voice he heard,"nature of man is beautiful and deceitful"
Dawn came, blissful, as the early birds began to sing
the dew drops that fell on the grass, illuminated the plains
his heart was filled with tears of truth.