Through the trees I can hardly see
insanity was left to flee
into a void where the voiceless haunts
and wordy worlds of deception taunts
but by nigh light of infernal woods
I see the treeborn clad in hoods.

The children, bewildered in the tree
they turn, to laugh at me
and in the yest of yellowed eyes
a bloodshot beam of childhood lies,
and through the tree's illumined path
I follow forth the children's wrath.

My ear is locked to their mocking glee
where a song of debauchery
through the tree's unveiling tunes
is turned into their nightly croons
and by the cheerful voices chased
I see a woodland laid to waste.
And in this tune forever fallen
I hear the songs of children calling.