Brushing through trees
Of harmony and dissidence
The woodsman cuts away
Wrought with decay
A purchase of life
To feed another
Best yet saved for another day

Lands lay barren
Winds fall still
Yet time continues
Despite his will

The woodsman lays
Near campfire bright
Burning the dreams
Of old last night

As the fire crackles
And embers flicker through
As the dreams turn ashen
He adds them anew

Meanwhile in cities
Surrounded by famine
And villages alike
With nothing to add in
The people grow old
The ground void of pleasure
Meaningless lives
Their dreams lost of treasure

The woodsman carries on
Alone and unjust
A job no one wanted
But a job that he must
If the trees lay untrimmed
And cover the soil
If the wood goes un-massed
And work goes un-toiled
The fire will die
The dreams will stop burning
A soulful endeavor
Left wanting and yearning.