With both feet I stand in the soil Nurturing my roots for eternity As I stand tall, I am a haven, I am a creator Ingrained with needles and thorns, I yield
For how long I wandered past the ruins I call my home For how long I carried this numb, rotting case Here I stand at my final resting place underneath the hollow sun Empty sunrays on my face for I feel nothing
I am a haven, I am a creator The roots are a palace and hold me dear Carrying the seeds I sow at my barren grave Whilst feeding them with my own corpse
And here I stood before my own grave Crumbling walls clad with blood and dust As I stride past the abandoned remnants of the palace That once held its glory but now remained stoic in destruction