Hollow Tree

The weaving voices of whispers unknown resonated through the forest of old caressing the tenderest reaches of the mind telling tales of forgotten knights and buried gold Alone there stands, in quiet desolation A hollow tree, with firm bark and root trenched bark, gnarled knobs and all whimpers, when air passes through, the melody of a flute Deep beneath the layers of lichens and mosses lies a hollow heart, of rotten wood and sorrow spread through the forest like an enchantment Is it's hollow heart controling even the smallest Rest-Harrow