From Underneath The Oak Tree

This world we call our own. Into which I was shown. This world that we never repay. The world we pollute everyday. The sights the sounds, I can see. From underneath the oak tree. I look upon, the four leaf clover. Upon the separate leaves, over and over. Upon the world, above my being. Upon the wind, forever fleeing. The grass and the Earth below. It all turns to ash, so slow. Time and space begin to fold It makes my hands freeze, so cold. Takes the tree to its last. Sucks away my life, so fast. My vision begins to blur. My blood begins to stir. My heart begins to stutter. These strange words that I mutter. My vision begins to toil. My blood begins to boil. My heart begins to stop. These legs give out, and I begin to drop. Into the darkness I begin to fall. In the emptiness I begin to crawl. I slowly move towards the blinding light. And for every movement I must fight. To regain who I used to be. To regain the twisted Oak Tree. I fight for my world. Into the darkness I'm hurled. I fall into space. With inhuman pace. And land upon the unseen stones. I leave behind my form and bones. The grass and the Earth below. It all turns to ash, so slow. Time and space begin to fold It makes my hands freeze, so cold. Takes the Tree to its last. Sucks away my life, so fast. I forget who I used to be. From Underneath The Oak Tree.