I miss winding through the hours
Beneath, the indifferent trees
In the chilled sigh of autumn

Having had my fill of wise words
From the warm weathered pages of a book
As the afternoon, inched slowly towards rain

I miss trailing off in the mud
With the songs of the brave
As a precious refrain, that quiets my fears

I yearn to live and be lost
In a forest that snarls
At unwavering resolve

I pine
For the thundering voices of sages
How they wailed and roared from within
In their thousands
Not long ago


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