by Babet Berning

Winter is coming,

Every year again.

Sweaters on,

Dresses off.

 

Winter is coming,

Every year again.

Days shorten,

Sunlight decreases.

 

Winter is coming,

Every year again.

Thunderclouds forming,

The canals freezing over.

 

Winter is coming,

Every year again.

Sleeping more,

Sleeping late.

 

Winter is coming,

Every year again,

Spend it all,

For temporary joy.

 

Winter is coming,

Every year again.

Skipping class,

And social events.

 

Winter is coming,

Every year again.

Everything for a high,

Or nothing at all.

 

Winter is coming,

Every year again.

The thoughts start,

Drifting into the clouds.

 

Winter is coming,

every year again.

Why eat,

When you want to feel.

 

Winter is coming,

Every year again,

Becoming hollow,

Filled with dirty water.

 

Winter is coming,

Every year again.

The same thing,

Every year again.

 

 

by Joachim Vogt

Leaves never fall

 

You sturdy old oak,

you who stand there so still,

will you soak up these tears of ours

that’s falling to the moss of your soil?

 

Oh, and I see,

the fiery warmth you contain within.

Does it witness the toil of our hearts

as we stand by you, alone,

cold and forgotten in this freezing wind?

 

Now, in the harvest of the orange moon,

did our pleas of reassurance

come to you too soon?

 

Did your fire see the raging needed

for our leaves of sorrow to fall?

Onto our branches there is no wind,

no wind to graze them at all.

 

You mighty old tree

we are naked where we stand.

 

Your greatness stretches towards the sky

while we walk right passed you

paying you no mind, no mind at all.

 

We are here, like you;

no leaves to shield our bark,

you say nothing to comfort our hearts.

 

“Then let my silence show onto your spirit

a life giving spark, of truth, and that’s the matter.

Let it relay to your lies in the dark

that eventually, you will break free of the tar

placed upon you. And not to burn,

but so that you will forgo the spurn

of the shining light that you have been given,

to carry within, to take the path

of illuminating away your worry

so that you will return

to who you have always been.”

 

You who stand underneath a mighty old tree

give time and beautiful patience,

look at the branches in the dark puddle’s reflection

and you’ll see that leaves grow,

they truly never fall.

Forfatter

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