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Dead Trees
The Blasting Company
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Dead trees
Open up for me
Teeming with all these crawling thieves
Gnashing and scratching
Over your rotted rings
Dead leaves
Make a bed for me
Tonight, where I may fall asleep
Dreaming of morning
When I shall mourn for thee
Judge me not for what I've become
There's nothing more left to be done
All that remains is long dead and gone
Heavy, sighs the rusted breeze
Dragging over sunken peat
Roses once blood-bloomed
Wither in ashen heaps
Buried
All these fleshed dreams
No more fighting night with their heat
Slack and receding
Cold as the earth where they sleep
Judge me not, my jury of bones
Glaring from eyes gray as stone
Justice in black seeps from her rotting throne
Judge me not for what I've become
There's nothing more left to be done
All that remains is long dead and gone
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