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All my weeds die away
Growing trees lost deep in fray
Spread their heads for light
A warming sun, right by your side
Tight beams meet tight moods
Pour dryed poison in their roots
Filled my body with heat
Growing oaks reach growing seeds
Colder days
Darker leaves
Mourning mountains
The forest bleeds
Bark of fears
Branch of needs
Embracing arms of empathy
Water the ground
So frightened trees can climb
To build up their homes
Under the sun
Of your mind