As I, Once lived; On great mountains; Making not a piece of sound. And in my dying moments, I lay silent in a bed of pretty flowers. I’m crushed, with my skin of shaded brown, Now a part of the Earth' ground as it erodes. In the wind, I whisper whisperings of my time, A forgotten season lost in winter, and life. In a forest filled to the brim of dreams, Parked underneath the shade, Once guarded, and unafraid. And what a shame, Soon I’ll be gone With the wind, Forgotten Of N A M E S