Loneliness is an acorn accepting it's fate.
Hundreds of feet above,
the trees do not care
Thousands of miles away
the Oceans shed no tears.
The roar of winter ripping through
Its rage grabbing ahold of you
Unto the ground you are thrust
Nothing alive to know you exist
months and even years may pass
you look around, wondering what will pass
eventually you finally see
that nothing matters
Not you. Not me.
The world around us begins to burn
Every spring, this seems to occur.
We sit here waiting on the ground.
The blade of our enemy upon our brow.
We ask the lord what may come
How foolish to think we can change what is done.
Not a damn thing in this world will ever make a difference
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