It's a forest parted from the trees,
All of it is incomplete,
I will run until I’m free,
Till the end of dooms-day,
Faced by the wretched beasts,
Radioactive six foot wolves,
Mutated hungry killer bears,
Am I here to be consumed?
Or do I concede to them?
Never free am I then?

Made to hate my bones,
Came too close to a grave,
Underneath the porch I'll stay,
To hide from the ivory fangs.