Amid the Leaves of Dusk

 Like the wind, I’m not carefree,
 An ever-changing breeze, I may seem,
Yet maybe a hurricane, Oh what a cliché,
 Whatever I am, I am anyway,

Upon one day, I may clarify,

 While hidden amongst the wilds, I hold a unique alibi,

If discovered, I’m anxious to admit,

 All the iniquities I have omitted,

Where I blend into the backdrop of darkness, a true asset,

 I save wonderous souls a most great upset,

For when I hid amongst the leave the trees had spat,

 My footsteps concealed in nature-blessed format,

For once, I longed to be seen, but my soul attained this fancy absurd,

 When between pages and leaves, all words had been rudely blurred,

As I am of only flesh and blood,

 Where once my desolate tears were want to flood,

I secured my skirts and ran from afar,

 Eager to escape so as not to defend my scars,

In the depths and hallows, the wilds allow,

 This strange sense of understanding somehow,

With likened folks, I sensed I would annoy,

 Their calm dignity to my admissions tended to destroy,

My entire existence, as if I was an afterthought,

 Then there’s just I, a small speak, a blot,

So quickly was I to overlook,

 Until I ran far and wide and undertook,

Where trees cannot bemoan,

 As I set forth a new home, my final capstone,

Where leaves and moss hide me from sight askew,

 As If they’re saying I belong there, too.