hope supplanting itself
deep in woods full
of darkest

the barks of trees
the call of wild
the sounds of nature
the ants armying through
the holes dug from the shrew
the caterpillars, changing in cocoon
the twittering birds, nests of hay
the shrubs, foilage, weeds
all of these
inevitable to die
but still alive

here hope lingers
but deeper in, going within
the dunnest parts
where silent silence
makes meddle to noise
dwells what try as might to avoid
seeming like an endless devoid
whose black wallows decay
seeking forth to destroy the day
with it, all the forest
the dryness has its way

rain dare not cry
rain dare not try
the sun dare not blind

 
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