The tree, that stood in the corner,
Could evoke emotions in every human.
For it is the mourning tree,
That mourned the death of every human,
Whose mortal being, passed in front of its eyes,
To the graveyard.
The flowers that fell on the ground,
On those days, were not without purpose.
Those were the offerings by the tree,
To the departed soul, or was it
The tears that ran out of its moist eyes;
But, it was for the dead man.
Companion, by companion it lost its friends.
Now, years passed and not a tender hand to caress.
But the men who lived, still departed day by day,
In front of the tree, which showered flowers,
For the same soul, which did not care.
But, the tree cared.
Now, decades later, the evil possessed man,
Breaks its arms and uproots its relationship with earth.
And not a single living being to oppose him,
Whose fathers were mourned, by the same tree.
And only one person stands; flowers in hand and tear filled eyes
And that is I.