Softly

Softly, like the gentle blowing winds.

The soft, rustling sound of leaves, in a forest of trees.

Crossing rivers
Burning bridges
Setting alight flames to papers
This rhyme a selfish poem
Made by desperate hearts in yearning
Singing for an end to their miseries.

Softly, like gentle winds before summers end.

Skies are burning
Lovers are screaming
Streets painted with shades of red
And orange and heartbreak too
Aflame, their ashes, the salvation of others.

Glittering, is the stars in the dark night.

A void of empty
Echoes of people we used to be
Pitter patter of feet
In this empty, vacant house
Memories that once belong
Now only wishes to be buried
Along with the love that once was
And the memories of who we used to be.

Like blooming red roses, after morning rain.