These Old White Pines

Death exhaled; morning fog haunted the ground beneath these old white pines

There is no rest for the broken souls left in this town

Loose lips said they hung Jealousy from one of those old pine trees late last week

He crept into Love’s house and stole her peace of mind while Despair was dreaming

They say that woman, Love, the one with no eyes, shot Anger dead late last winter; his blood soaked the roots of these trees

She claimed self defense even though she shot him square in the back, Love never cared much for the likes of Anger anyway

Despair’s been locked up for years and no sign of when they are letting him free, he’s going to die beneath this town

He hid away from the world amongst these trees after breaking Love’s heart, you can hear him howl in the wind

Death Inhales; those old white pains shake vigorously as she breathes

What was once broken can always be made whole

They cut Jealousy down from that old pine tree but his shadow still lingers in the light of dawn

Anger’s blood swelled around their feet as they walked through the woods, some will find comfort in the warmth of blood once boiled

Despair laid still and awaited Deaths arrival; they knew it would be sometime until Death came calling so they held tight to Despair

Death began to speak; for a moment those old white pines stopped whispering to the night

Jealousy, Anger and Despair worshiped Death but Love was never much of a believer

She’s never had a place amongst these trees