Long crossed paths that leave life in a tangled mess. Which road to pick will right my wrongs, I don't know I must confess.

I grow exhausted from my journey, and decided to seek refuge under this old oak tree. As I sat and ponder direction, it wrapped its branches around me.

Comfort came and tamed my rage, quieted the voices inside my head. When sleep overshadowed thought, it provided a humble bed.

As I woke the mighty oak whispered through the breeze. Letting me know I must go, and choose the path I please.

Reluctant I stand strong and make my way, looking back only to find. That my tree of comfort and refuge was gone, it was a figment of my mind.