via Daily Prompt: BrokenThe hard bark bruising my skin in the devils weather as i hold on for hated life,cascades of endless rain and hail beating me from all directions at once,without a thought on my standing and promises of self love,i stand there holding on to the ugly Mukilata tree. Warmer days and starry skies haunt me as i swallow and spit,the life of mother Gaia and the pain of the Greek king ,i get caught in between,a lost and insignificant spec of silt,holding on for the sake of it,the Mukilata tree sways a bit. I see the glint of a way out of this hellish nature’s freedom,a easier path to take,to be free of the uncertainty,the tunnel through the vision,the vision of defeat,my fingers stiff around the ugly tree ease,blood rushing to the tips. I look up to the morbid abyss,the dead insides of a life that was,a series of wants and needs,i look into the mind of the tree as i see an end to this,the stump with grotesque bark anchoring my breaking will. The Mukilata tree stands bare and unrelenting,with exposed roots and tattered leaves,the dead call to it with sweet song and melodious flute,the end that will never come,we hold on,the Mukilata tree and me.