A lone tree, in a forgotten field.
Once luscious leaves; now withered and gone.
Bare branches outstretched skywards.
Where once was fullness and life
Is now barren and dead.
the comfort of shade; dried up.
The gentle rustle of leaves; stilled.
Roots embedded in the soil of generations
Bark weathered by seasons come and gone.
An age which defied all
As the whisper of freedom, blows a gentle breeze
Through the lone tree's bare branches