I stand as the willow weeps soft

The lovely keening sound I hate to hear

She warms the hills with her boughs of kindness

Gracefull she stands, a sight unparalleled

A sun glares down with rays of malice

Gluttonous with the Earth's adulation

Searing heat crawls through the ground, regretful

Roaring the deer flies, hungry are the eyes

For I see nothing but the agony

Still the creeper advances unopposed

Gleaming with an emotion unforseen

How the brazen bronze bells of horror grow

As I stand when the willow weeps softly

Helpless, I stare, joints made of frozen stone