The birds of the sky
Peck at my flesh
In the forest of bones
Of bones

I watch this quiet affair from afar
Silent, crouching
So as to not disturb
The thin veil of nature that has settled

Men in blue suits
And shiny shoes
Believe that power comes
From rising numbers
And diplomatic wars

But I
I have seen real power

Of the calm and rage of a brewing storm
Wind grasping, grasping
As electricity runs over my skin
As I root in place in the face of God

But I
I have seen real power

Of life where no life should be
Saplings growing, growing
Against the ashen backdrop
Against death and death and fires and hell

But I
I have seen real power

Of rivers and oceans and shapes in the waters
Constantly swelling, swelling
So dark and deep and whole
So dark and mysterious and promising

But I
I have seen real power

Of ice and hail like shattered glass
Stretching far, far beyond
With the cold beauty of a killer
With the sharpness hanging in the air

But I
I have seen real power

Life existing as an extension of decay
Decay, decay, decay
To return, return,
From life to death
To death to life
Over and over

The trees understand no concept of fear
Just the roots in the soil
And the branches in the sky
And everything between simply
The next life

Maybe someday someone
Will trip on my skull
Or find a fox who had his fill of me
For the end is simply a promise
Of life
One feeds the other
Over and over

Oh
True power
It was never really there
Just energy
And cycles
And the stillness of existence
Of time so colossal
It looped in on its self
Bending gravity and light and ideas and-

Oh what am I saying
Why are you here
Listening to the whispers of old ghosts
Old bones
Live your life
Forget the sleeping beasts
And the purpose of things
We are but little people
In the the scheme of the giants
And the dreams of the ancient
And the whisper, whisper of-