Glowing Crimson Tree

Glowing crimson tree,

Standing proudly in solace,

Despite violent winds.

Like a bleeding sea,

Its vibrant, shining, palette

protesting rainfall.

Beside the red tree,

A solemn, depressed, old stick

leans; leafless and brave.

The gust grows bitter,

flag-less and flag-full alike,

dance away worry.

Dolesome irony,

Discerning luscious landscape,

Through a manmade screen;

A cry from within,

A reflection of nature,

Sounded by silence.

Confined, stuck, longing, for the

Glowing crimson tree.