TemptationSometimes, death plays a game.
It picks a leaf from the tree,
The tree of souls,
It makes a choice.
Sometimes, it crushes the leaf to dust,
It makes it easy, pleasant.
But sometimes it lets it go
It lets the soul fly free,
Disconnected from the world.
Waiting to float back.
A dying soul, severed at the root,
Left to wander the winds of time.
They watch the people around them,
Smile, laugh, live, cry,
While everything inside of them withers away.
Their calls left unanswered,
Their plight unheard,
They always come back.
Death is always waiting,
It's sickly sweet embrace tempting,