Languid prickly pear.
Ashen, voracious sky lay waste.
Prickly languid pear.
Hold fast against the wilted branch.
Thank the tree for its regard;
the limb that decayed the least.
O’ how my will hangs
as I do above the death
who brought us this rot.
Pear, languid and prickly.
Tenacious pride claws and bites
at morbid despair and lonesome longing;
Ashen sky dust and burn the peel.
Pain felt from
the dying of the limb that had more than
you in the end.
Resentment tucked between the anguish.
Who brought us this rot?
O’ how this will fades
unable to deliver
the cut that will end
The branch snaps.
the will of which persists.