The last one
By Grace G
The one single tree,
Swaying in the mist,
Its branches twisted up like a vine,
Alone on the billabong ground
The sunburnt land,
Sand smooth as silk,
The sun reflecting off the nearby river,
Alone on the billabong ground
The sound of destruction echoed across the horizon,
A shadow emegered from the large oak tree,
destruction...
Alone on the billabong ground