Broken Branches

The wind has broken branches here, A snapping sound sharp, when pierced; And yet they sway, as if alive, Seeking out the root that thrives inside. Such hunger lingers, restless, raw, A ceaseless yearning, nature's law. His constant flame, both light and hot, The wheel of longing will not turn. A broken timer—days collapse, Moments stretch thin, the hours, minutes, seconds pass. Explosions follow, damp and moist, The aching void, that can't be filled. And even as the night draws nigh, In dreamless sleep, her spirit shows— As shadows moves beneath her skin, The insatiable ache, touched within. What branches break may not restore, But roots will bloom and thirst once more.