My poor weakened leaf hold on
even though the old world is snowed under,
and its debris unworthy to float over.
Your old tree among the ruins of the past
is about to be cut down but have faith,
I am fighting to let you live –
Chaining myself to the tree I dream of tomorrow
when I’ll amble past the ruins and still see beauty.
Let me hush your fears, see there’s light behind the sorrow,
I’ll go there and bring it closer.
Life is ephemeral, you whisper, and so am I,
fighting for me is not worthwile.
But no other leaf has as beautiful a colour as you
who’ll remain treasured even after having dulled.
I’ll care for you not till the end but beyond
when I’ll sit beneath you in a kingdom-come.


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