THE LONELY TREE

it was no ordinary acacius, the one they named 'the tree of tenere'

its entire kin vanished summer by summer, but the one had to stay

a few feet tall and alone, the tree stood, for decades in the nomadland

the miracle of life was deeply rooted into the sahara sand

what once was green and flowery learnt to withstand the hot and dry

and became hard like adulting in a realm of scorpions and cacti

you may think it was sad, the life of tenere, but it was real

real like mine, like yours, like of the innocent that searched a surreal

the tree saw only itself on that lonesome latitude

would it have cherished the bliss in, or mourned its solitude?

it subsisted the truism, much like you and i would have to too

alone we tread, alone we die, so alone we must evolve through