The woods are cold and desolate
The sun is dimly lit
The shadows move fast
Nothing bright will last
old gnarled trees stand tall
at the roots lay an old little doll
her old brown hair tied in knots
her cloth skin slowly rots
an old man walks around
his gray eyes facing the ground
he steps on crushed leaves
For the lost souls he grieves
The woods here are dying
the birds are no longer flying
all has fallen to the floor
what once moved doesn't move anymore