The Forest

the rot starts from within

growing out from within the wood

brittle like the ends of an ashy fire

dripping black oil, staining the forest

empty branches crack in the wind

hollow corpses in a row

huddled under a blackened sky

pelted by the never ending rain

black bark chips away

crumbling to dust under the heavy downpour

but still, it stands

an empty forest left to rot

a scar across the earth

forever silent

waiting for the rain to stop