The trees stand before me,
Like a crowd of men,
A jury of wooden minds,
Facing me again.

Unknowing of the consequences,
Of my actions’ reply,
These trees are the gates,
To the forest’s eye.

A whole journey ahead,
And I shall trek on,
I shall take the chance,
Before it is gone.

Take that chance,
Take that risk,
Just believe me,
It shan’t be brisk.