The lone sapling lays discarded on the grassy plain,
Its roots half-buried, half withered away.
Gone is the bright and healthy splendor of the skin,
A yellowing-brown now dulls the edges of something once beautiful.
A self-devouring thirst,
A need so strong, it numbs all.
A flickering throb of a past heartbeat hints at some forgotten past:
"Will I ever be forgiven?"
The bright blue expanse of the sky
Torments her with its limitless possibilities.
Her body lies parallel to its humbling expanse.
"I'll never reach you," she cries.
The quick, harsh slap of a breeze is tempered by the wave of the cooling wind.
The sapling shudders towards the sound of life--
--is the shaking her own?
Or fabricated by the strength of the wind's pull?
A mere puppet strung to the wishes and wants of another?
Even now the supposedly loving sun's rays are too bright to endure.
"Stop, it hurts. I'm scared."
Braving the lonely responsibility to light the skies--
--to protect her?
"I don't want you to die."
"I didn't know. How would we know?
"She wouldn't tell us anything, what were we supposed to do?"
They would complain.
A creature, non-assuming,
Patiently, quietly, creeps into a nook,
That wicked girl's embrace,
A potential start of something new,
Two closed eyes savor the raw gift of faith.
"I'll give you everthing I have," she coos,
"If you just stay here with me."