Old Oak

The tree stands alone, with its amber leaves,
Autumn has come, and she blows such hard gust.
The girl, so trusting, the man did deceive,
With him she had thought she felt love and lust.

His idea was not even near the same,
He wanted sex but above all, the power.
Even he tried to stay back, to be tame
Yet, wanted her to see him, and cower.

That fateful day, under that great old oak,
He took her innocence and precious life.
All alone, in her own blood she did soak,
While away he walked with both smile and knife.

Over her heart fell a small golden leaf
And her soul did shudder at her belief