Tired, I sat under an age-old tree,
Its yellow, lifeless leaves all around me,
I heard the echo of a shrill cry
Of a lonely bird, from the distant sky.
Maybe it was searching for its nest,
I thought as I looked to the west
And saw the Sun, the clouds blood-red,
And stared back to the leaves lying dead.
Green leaves shall take the dead ones' place,
The world shall again see Sun's bright face,
But will I return from death's shadowy realm,
Or will time erase my soul and name?
As evening envelops my vision and heart,
Stars appear above the silent earth,
Like them, twinkling lights in the dark,
Is life nothing, but a transient spark?
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