---

on a hill stood wicked tree
a single root, branches three

one branch was war
one branch was want
one branch was greed
horrid haunt

its root was pride
its power great
acid soil of perfect hate

its bark like scabs
sulfuric green
a stunted growth
twisted . mean

lichen of ignorance
crusted there
on the north side
of despair

black mushrooms
sprouted from its pores
growing from
starvation's spores

and yet it thrived and gave its fruit
they were put forth by the root

these carried seeds to plant in season
they want it growing for some reason

they plant it lone upon a hill
where it can grow
it's growing
still

it grows from you
it grows from me
we feed that hateful

wicked tree


soulsurvivor
rewritten
(c) 6/13/2015
first draft 2014