Waves crashing against the sharp and jagged rocks,
Sending a light mist flying into the dark, gloomy sky.
Bringing with it a battered ship.
With its sails flying left and right.
Its masts cracking with every toss and turn.
But one thing still stands untouched,
Not moving.
Not making one sound.
A tree,
A tree, that has lost all its leaves.
Just sitting there bare, and cold.
Not asking much,
Not saying much,
Not showing much.
It wonders why,
Why all the other trees have lush green leaves.
Why it has to be the odd one.
And stand alone, on a mossy hill,
Far away from the others.