An old oak tree stalled on the riverbank.
Immense stems concealed the silver moonlight.
Its leaves all fell and to the water sank;
splendor faded and nowhere out of sight.
Waters debauched all of the tree's desires;
rain poured down: deluged the diluted roots--
--where dead twigs reposed while submersed in mires.
Yet, there was a time the old tree brooked fruits!
Halt! Be not afraid for there's still tenure!
Such nightmare ended as a bright day grew--
--which incited budding of flowers pure
and had broughtforth the leaves of life anew!
Tree almighty once stood inanimate;
but ended up having glorious fate!
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