The leaves shrivel away at the sight of my hand.
How fitting for nature to take away everything from me.
As I did for you.
Left only with my life, I wander the halls, the meadows, the dirt.
How different is it really to be above the ground?
You don't need to cease life to truly die.
Not a stone to my name except the ones within my pocket.
So I keep going, weighed down by my past.
Some sins cannot be forgiven.
Lost in the depths of despair, but I have nothing left to lose.
The earth coats my feet as I walk through it.
My mouth feels like shattered glass.
Would my tongue still work if I tried to use it?
I see no point in trying to find out.
I raise the canteen to my lips.
But all I taste is blood.
I can taste it on my lips as I close my eyes, and in the morning, it remains.
My shoulders need only to lift my head, but the memories weigh so heavy.
If only I could hear your voice one final time.
See your smile.
To see that, I would trade for my lips to never curl up again.
Blood always mixed with tears.
But now I have nothing left to bleed.
If only the roots could take hold again, but the soil is long dry.
It cascades over the ground, blown by wind.
All that's left are bones, but I can feel you within the plants.
See you in every flower. Every leaf.
Your cold eyes plead.
But in the end, there's nothing left for me to give.