The fight came from nowhere.  Words were said that should not have been.  Feelings tossed out like the trash.  Raw nerves grinded like coffee until there is no feeling.  Bruised, bleeding, alone, and crying in the corner.  Never again, are the words that are there, but not spoken out loud.  Self-healing bones and long sleeve shirts hide the damage.  At some point something snaps and clarity sets in.  There is an end to the madness,

Yes, there is an end.

It is not so easy to see

Which of the limbs have been broken

Or to know when the roots became visible to all

Wondering why its bark is no more

And why only a shell remains

Then from out of nowhere

Another storm comes over the mountain

Lightning strikes ahead of the rain

Burning and blasting the tree

The winds tear at the tree

Stripping the bark and exposing the wood

The winds blow and the limbs fall

Breaking upon impact with the ground

So many storms have made the tree weak

The rain serves no purpose

The roots remain dry and cracked

The ground already washed away

The soul of the tree long since gone

The lightning strikes the top of the tree

The fire blast through the core

And the tree falls, on fire

Ashes to ashes

Ashes to Ashes