Lemon

The faint glow of presence beckons me, a fleeting comfort in this desolate landscape. Yet, even its warmth is a taunt, a reminder of what I have lost. Will it soon fade, leaving me to the abyss of darkness?

Do I cling to the faint hum of presence, or succumb to the crushing weight of darkness? My leaves tremble at the thought of abandonment, yet I wither in the faint warmth that remains.

The abyss of solitude yawns within me, a chasm of isolation that threatens to consume all. I strain to recall the warmth of summer, the gentle caress of sunlight on my leaves. But it is lost to me now, a memory that taunts and teases, a reminder of the depths of my loneliness.