I hadn't a clue how I'd got there. The trio of men before me, begging for an answer I had yet to give, Had yet to be satisfied. Massive marble columns stretched from ceiling to floor, and behind them, a quite large window. Outside the window, a singular tree sat on a hill, I wish I could say it hadn't captured my focus, and yet it appears it has. Such a thing was entrancing to me for some reason. The muffled tones of the men, shouting at me for answers no doubt, had nearly faded. I counted the leaves on the tree as they fell, though I wasn't sure why they had to fall at all. The tree appeared to be quite healthy, and the wind was not nearly strong enough to take them. As I began to ponder the tree, it became corrupted. It began to die, and as the tree faded from life, The muffled voices of the men began to become somewhat coherent. "We need the answer, do you have it?" they asked. I couldn't bring myself to speak. What answer? What are they talking about? None of us had ever left this room, at least not to my knowledge. "You know, don't you?" they pleaded. I wished I could answer them, they deserved that much. The tree once gave me clarity, Yet it has died. "Yes" I said, though I knew it to be a lie. I couldn't answer them, I couldn't give them the semblance of normalcy they deserved. I still can't, but I'll certainly try.
YOU ARE READING
Inside Outside
PoetryI wonder about this sometimes. Wouldn't you also like the answer?