The howl of her soul whispers in the wood
And ruffles the feathers of those who fly
Her spirit does carry the buzz of the bees
Even in death – she doesn’t die

Her ground supports the feet beneath me
And buries my fears - long tormenting
Under the soil her treasures lie
A heat so fierce and unrelenting

Like a moth to a flame was i, drawn to her
Burnt and broken, now do I stand
To extinguish a blaze so bright and true
Would be the greatest of sins any man could do

Droplets of sky condensed fall upon me,
To wash away the guilt I hide
Tis I who killed my only mother
Murdered by mans own restless pride

Now I do lie here alone and cold
Doomed to see my grandchildren grow
In a world my own doing foretold
The sight of a forest, they shall never know