Watching trees from a far
As my fingers glide across the paper,
Tracing each and every letter
There are traces of what used to be
Yet, all that remains are vacant forests
There aren’t any birds singing,
Nor are there any trees brushing against one another when the sun hits
Now each breath I take feels like the last one
I savor each and every one of them before I let go
I close my eyes as I exhale
For once I open my eyes
All around me, shapes began to blur into one a other
And a deafening sound overshadows my own thoughts
Swiftly, I reach for my book,
But my vision’s given up
All I remember before I let go is how green the world use to be
