Tree Sin Fire

The trees talk to me about the wind

They tell me which way it goes and where it begins

I ask them “what do you know, what do you know about sin?”

They sway in reply, some of them bend

They say “are you alright my dear friend? Why such a morbidly filled question?”

I say “it’s just I’m a mess and you’ve seen the flames that hell sends”

“Oh yes we have, when the ember’s catch the breeze, we begin to burn with ease, we always beg and plead, but we give in because we’re weak”

“But trees, tell me one thing, why do I feel complete when the something I shouldn’t be doing doesn’t end because I let it?”

“We get it, we do. We’re a lost cause when the flames tread on through. Say it’s not me, it’s you. That’s the truth, that’s the ugly truth.”

“But you see it coming in the wind, why do you stay put and let it win?”

“Our roots are too solid, our loyalty too strong. We belong to the earth we grew on.”

“So you just suffer because it’s where you’re from?”

“We sacrifice ourselves so it can be done”

“I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I think this is where I differ from you. Sometimes we’re better off taking the ruthless route. Sometimes we’re better off not feeding their mouth”

“I wish I could agree”

The trees dance effortlessly

“I just wish you could see, you’re better off without me”

The flame starts sprouting

“Or are you better off without us?”

The smoke is towering

“Maybe the sin is what makes us”

Together we stood still in the fire

I guess the sin was only a desire