The Tree

The tree knows its place

being what it is
 

Our Purpose

Going as we must

such is our purpose
 

Drained

Our final days

run away from us

drained we slip away
 

Busy

Busyness isn't purpose
 

Brew

We brew our own trouble

 

Empty

The world sits empty

just the way we made it
 

Things we said today

Each passing year

removes our being

until we never existed