The strange beautiful addictions eating off the bark
And the jerking branches stealing away the nature of the wind
All but sadness rejoice at the sight of their own absence
Timber has never been more valuable
The smell has fallen and it sways cold
Dancing around the roots fainting at every corner
Surely grass has grown here; warm it was
So there was a smell
The flowers do have forgotten their place
Painted over they await dinner in the form of doves
Sit and bark away the harmful ways
Sin down your desires; grow.
