Mighty big of you to sit there on your horned throne
You thought yourself a scholar
Oh but with knowledge came ignorance
You thought yourself untouchable
Damn near a god
Azaleas in your blood you'd mistaken for ichor
Ego so big, not a soul woulda dared to feed it
Those times under the willow tree come forth like a breeze fresh on the lungs
Washing away everything
Cleansing the soul of the forgotten
Light spinning through the leaves on a windy Sunday morning
Squeezing past vines to meet your heavy back
Time spent under that tree was the prize of a lifetime
A shade so good it'd cool off the devil
So strong it'd survive a thousand storms
Whew that willow child, could it ever get better than that?
It's Aureate energy consumed days like a gator on the prowl
Weeks fell into months
Months surprised to be called a year
The damn world sped up, no courtesy at all
With your light you were happy
The willow tree made sure of it
When the sunlight fades darkness overcomes
When greed takes over logic must crumble
When you marred the willow light seemed a little less bright
What's a day without a few clouds?
The willow grew ill, roots ripping through the ground in desperation
Pushing forward bearing fruit the world was not ready to carry yet again
Forbidden yet again, if not by God by his creation those who shift the world into the next chapter
Temptation once again the plow of a heavy soul
Leaves plummeting to their deathbed
A life short lived they never were able to fade
Boy, you stuck by that tree
You saw the fruition of something greater
The beginning for another
You marred that willow
It will never be seen the same
To the rest of the forest the shade will never be so cool
Satan had slipped a finger in the shadow
The decision was not an ultimatum, but an inevitable journey into the woods
To give yourself to the forest
You took on fate with open arms
For that I can't condone you
For the tree was the light what better could you be than the nutrients?
It was all to be, all to come
The forest didn't like that, the willow caressing fertilizer
You were food, now I know your mama told you don't play with your food
Could you've known the food was you?
Maybe not maybe so, but you were a meal
Lain in the meadow for all to yield
Vines wrapped around you holding you to the ground
Thorns tore into your back, yet bore you no crown
Up high in the branches of that great willow
You stay there your head rested in the leaves, for you this is nature's pillow
Rest boy you've got it, whether you've earned it is not up to me
Boy that's Azaleas, didn't I tell you?
Ichor sure does look a lot like that mad honey
Lawd boy, I wish you could see
Author Bio:
Amarie Henderson is a young writer from Mississippi, who loves to portray the truths of what was and what is going on now in the black community. This piece speaks of a forbidden love gone sour, and the virtue of the man who's story is being told.