The moon shines,
as the clouds reign.
The leaves rustle,
the wind howls.
Soothing their wounds,
caressing their pain;
the trees sigh with relief.
That shadowless night,
the rain sobs softly,
careful enough not to wake the homosapiens.
The chilly wind continues to silently hums,
a soulful tune,
about the dead,
the death of the alive.
