.:: Fade to Grey ::.
The stars twinkle, kept warm by a blanket of darkness,
the sweat dripping down the face of the only one awake.
Working the ground with his old strength and old plow,
claiming to not use technology, so the soil can know his touch.
Tractors did not have gentle hands like grandfather did,
and could not befriend the earth and gain her undying trust.
Pulling her intruders, throwing the weeds behind him, laughing.
He tended the flourishing garden, thorns biting deep into his flesh.
His blood comingling with the earth, so the flowers would sprout.
The common knowledge he shared with the old, fertile grounds,
lost as he went too far, and finally, unwillingly had bit the dust.
His skin quickly faded to grey, in contrast with the brown of the earth.
After his death, the seeds he had planted could no longer feel him,
and so this caused them to sleep below as the earth above hardened.