THE POISON TREE

It's me again the story teller of words ✍️ that will speak upon, of that what I see and hear and believe what is front of me. For as I sit here looking out of the 🪟 but yet I still can't believe, how much this world has been changed by what is happening now. For sure we are living in a place that was once, a place that you could breathe in the spring aura of the trees of life. Yet as I search near and far from away, from the negativity and drama and chaos. I feel silent tear rolls down, my face only to be cupped in my hands like drops of acid rain, like poison ivy is to the deepness of my skin and flesh. Slowly eating off the skin of my flesh of my heart and spiritual soul. For it's a damn shame with all the madness, in which I must still try to hide behind the mask, 😷 that hides my face. For I can't really see the forest before the trees, as they slide off the branches just blowing in the  breeze, which has been once the tree of life. So tall and majestic of a beautiful tribute, how special life and love use to be to seen, for there is real evidence of deterioration to the roots of the fountain of a tree. THAT once gave me the air quality that I breathe 🙏.                  
               🪬 SHAMAN 🪬