You were nothing more than a gust of air; you lasted for a short time but hit at the perfect moment.
You came in the cold of winter, pushing against my rotting wood and dying core.
I had survived winter like these for years but this time it was different.
I was weak, old, I had not prepared for this winter.
My branches were stiff and brittle, my roots detached and weak.
In my youth I had been able to sway with the wind, but I had swayed too much and too hard.
I could not take the blows of the wind anymore.
That is when you came, a slight gust hitting against my body and ripping through my core.
You took my leaves that hid my dying exterior
You snapped the branches that had protected me
And you blew through the core of me bringing my entire body down.
You were in and out in seconds but you destroyed me
You pushed me into the cold, took away my mask, and stripped me of my protection.
You had killed me in moments, and now I must lie here and rot as the snow covers my decaying body.