Lonely Quiet Path

He walked a path the world forgot,
Where jungle vines in silence caught.
Each step was slow, his spirit thin
Grief stirred like windless storms within.

The sun declined in muted gold,
Its fading warmth both faint and bold.
It touched his back, a parting grace,
As twilight brushed the forest’s face.

A birdsong drifted through the trees,
A whispered thread upon the breeze.
Leaves murmured low in gentle sway,
Their rustling hymn smooth thought fray.

Though solitude walked at his side,
The woods with quiet light replied.
Tall trees stood firm through dusk’s refrain,
As if to say, you still remain.

The sinking sun seemed then to say:
“I vanish too, but not to stay.”
In nature’s hush, he found release
A fleeting ache, a touch of peace.