Powerful like every natural thing
you were reborn in the form
of a fatal hurricane.
I foolishly thought that you came back
to inspect the damage left behind
by your last storm.
But you emerged just to knock me out
by my trunk.
Were you trying to caress me
like seasons do love to nature?
Burn every breath of life to chaos
then water it back with a new spirit?
Well, I have already lost my last root
a decade ago
and I carry no pollens
at the back of my palm
for the wind to transport new lives.
There are no chances for robust seeds
to evolve from my sterile womb.
All that's left of me
is a series of vertebra
stitched by my misfortunes and dismay.
And if you think I am unfair,
if you believe you were the sun
in this story,
simply testing the power of your radiance,
I would like to comfort you,
you were as powerful as light...
I was nothing but a spec of dark
that had dwindled and died
in your striking presence.
Now you can watch over me
in peace and cold silence
as I adapt to this irreparable harm.
And I shall congratulate you;
I said you can never toss me
into restless nights
of heaviness and anxiety again.
But I see that your rays
have burned me
and your winds
have cut through me slowly,
carved me like a stone.
You have made me a bookmark
in my own past,
cursed to live in gloominess
and insane heart rate.
You have doomed me
to be put through it all,
to live between the pages of history
every night
all over again.
You have puffed out my last candle
and stole my last chance
to happily outrun.
I had one thread left
between me and demise;
it's all gone.
To survive with permanent damage
is simply not to survive
at all.