A bud on a spruce tree

Said the last goodbye, Leaving us, as old rye, Taking you, Earth withers, And I am left in shivers. Tears flow in eyes, The driest ones; wept, Grays are the skies, The wind, no longer kept. Children shall be told, Reminiscent they'll be, Before they grow cold, That's how time does be. Tales, rumours, I shall dismiss them all, As long as i live, I shall know you. Time, shan't take you away, The son of the wind, Oh! How you did sway! But their chains did bind. The very air, Enclosed in glass walls, They didn't care, And ignored all your calls. Wild spirits at ease, Like streams never cease, Slow them, change their ways, Leaving them no longer a maze. All the smiles, all the tears, Now go away, as they came, Going away in shame, Where are your prayers? I stand beside the gravestone, Tear stained and weary, Nothing now is known, Everything feels so eerie. The rain comes, takes away, Something i can't point out, Its all too loud. Silence is worse than screaming, Nothing nothing at all, in feeling, And then I see, A bud on a a spruce tree.