every nook and cranny inside the mind of a morose weed

I.

What's to believe, we never foresee
Wilting of forests and souls
Now they surmise, a god in the sky
Humbly, I choose to defy

Beloved my oak, don't get me all wrong
don't read me like some kind of poem
for love is I speak, and oath is I seek
that wherever you are is your home

can we all pretend, consoled
before the ceremony ends?

can we all intend, make believe
before the pastor declares?

can we all be friends, as a whole
before I can't still comprehend?

I once was a weed with your shade in my head

Now longing for pointless demands