The Tree Outside My WindowA Poem by Max HernzI. WINTER'S DOING I close my eyes again. Another day replays. Not sure I can remain, Unspoken as I lay. The thoughts I must refrain, Cast shadows in display. This bitter cold restrain, Expands their sinful way. Dejection, I'm afraid, Has snuck into my veins. Winter's grin, holds disdain. My spirits it has slain. Death mocks me into pain. It whispers, "Come my way." "I'm falling. I'm insane." The whispers hear me say. I close my eyes again, As loneliness escapes. Raw sickness delegates, Around me. Come as may. II. ENTER TREE A thousand whispers crawl on by. They suffocate my static mind. And permeate the frosty lies, That though the windows, watch the eyes. Many windows at my side. Buzzing, dim fluorescent lights. Peeling paint that never dies. Chastisement from eager eyes. In this place that I reside, I make a projecting find. Just outside my window lies, A mere lonely tree in sight. III. TREE AND I It gently weeps on the outside. But its secrets you will not find. When did it last escape such blight, Of Winter's sovereign, frigid bite? I ask, I seek, its dreary cry. Its loneliness, I wonder why. Oh, tree, oh, tree, help me decide, The riddle to this life of mine! The walls it built through out its life. The emptiness it's forced to hide. The wars within, it had to fight, Are memories not left behind. I see its pain carved by the sky. A doing of Death's evil smite. And even when it should have died, The tears it bled kept it alive. Now, the moon is setting high. Underneath the winter sky. But I can not say good-bye, To this stunning tree tonight. As I sit, I look outside. At the tree that gently sighs. Right below the moon's fine light, It and I are bound by plight. IV. LULLABIES Silver moon, cry a tune; A melody to heal my wounds. Whisper sooth, to my gloom, Serenity, let flow, oh moon. Crimson moon, do you loom, Where winter greets such torrid doom? Calm my fume, for I too, Lament my needs with dismal tunes. Wrap me moon, oh, tender boon. In your embrace hide me 'till noon. Gentle moon, free me soon. Exhilarate my somber mood. Sing lullabies 'till warmth is nigh. Sing lullabies 'till come the night. Oh, moon, blue moon, high in the sky, Sing all through out the winter night. V. GOOD-BYE Death accuses me of rape! In bitterness I remonstrate! The tree and I are renegades, Against Death's wintery brigade. This tree I see, I can relate. Its soul, Death's words eviscerate. That tree beyond the lofty gate, My sadness creep to obligate. The life I dream, I orchestrate. Inside my head, which obfuscates- Reality from fictions crave. It's just a tree outside the gate. We are not bound to operate. But its murmurs cry out my name. It's just a tree outside the gate. The holds my past to reiterate. It's just a tree outside the gate. The tree outside my window pane.
© 2019 Max HernzReviews
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4 Reviews Added on January 5, 2019 Last Updated on January 5, 2019 AuthorMax HernzIn My Head, TXAboutI live through music. I play, I write and perform my feelings. Quite often you'll find me running around in my head. I'm a forgotten dreamer but I know one day reality will bump into me and say, "Hey!.. more..Writing
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