Lurid tree standing oh so tall.
Myriad numbers of heavenly
Flowers for those who rise and fall.
Prescient feelings inside, secretly,
Where roots press against on our nominal walls.
Tremulous scenes of insatiable dreams;
Ivy of infamy strangling severely,
A misunderstood heart stroke where streams
Of blood flow with intimacy.
"I wish you wished too", our dreams.
That lurid tree still stands tall,
But thee ivy on two dead ends
Stubbornly dedicated to all
Cure, which poisons the tree that pretends
To survive, along our life hall.