I am a tree.

My bark is tough,
Crackled, broken,
And rigid.

It's worn out in places,
Weakened in many.

My limbs are reaching,
Aimlessly above me.
They quiver in the wind.
Move with it's gusts,
Snap in the breeze.

My leaves are changing,
Again, it seems.
They twist and turn,
Fall off, and grow.

I am a tree.

My surroundings,
They're changing.
They move me,
They break me.

I am the remains,
The results,
The outcome,
The compilation.

The winds will change,
Again it seems.
It'll pick up,
It'll calm down,
It'll weaken me,
Then build me up again.

I am a tree.


Father, be the wind, break me down, change me. I'm tired of this life I've been leading. It's meaningless and striping away the person I am, the person I was, and the person I want to be. Break my habits, make me new. I am nothing, with out You.