Sense Of Impending Doom

It was a feeling of impending doom
I was absorbed by a gloom
The autumn sun was sickly pale
And I pretended to inhale
Before my fall into long sleep
I listen to the silent weep
Of tired old and mossy trees
Here, at my knees
Dozing midges like poppy seeds
Blueberry dusk kissed my lips
My eyes became black as night
The darkness entrenched inside
Rustle speaks the language of despair
I would like to take his share
And I’d like to feel the pain
But I’ve been mesmerized by the rain
And now the foliage color faded
Tree branches emaciated
To the bone
I felt my heart turned to stone
It was a feeling, no, I lied
I know it now the day before I died