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..
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