My body lay entombed
Deep within an ancient wood,
Where an ancestral cemetery hides
Forgotten there for good.
The headstones, old and weathered,
Speak for many long lost souls.
I know not for how long I've lain,
Sleeping in my hole.
I remember not my name
For my inscription's worn away.
I know not of my family
Nor to whom my death lay claim.
My living life was sour,
Scorched deep by loss and pain.
I knew not love nor happiness,
My death my only gain.
I am the spirit of this ancient wood.
I play within the trees.
I stir within the autumn winds
That carry dying leaves.
I run amongst the ancient oaks;
I dance beneath the pines.
I sing songs lost to worldly time
And no man shall no their lines.
Though mortal man may stray within
My frolic drives them far away.
For no living man shall tart here.
Where my sleeping bones still lay.
I am the spirit of the Wood
And though sadness was my lot.
I have found my joy, at last,
Within a grave that time forgot.
