I look outside at the trees and small plants in bloom
Brown all over, but with green leaves sprouting too
The brush full of death
The canopy above is rife with life
The sun trumps over all, casting an orange glow
Only on the top half of the wood, creating
An uneasiness as day transitions into night
Feeling empty inside, like the wood before me
Only half filled with the orange light
Soon all of the wood will fall into darkness
With the cool winds flowing through it
At least the woods are whole again
However not I, no sunset
Is going to make me whole tonight.
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