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