These dirt roads
They break way to gravel
Until the grass splits the cracks
In the soil
And gives birth to such green fields
Who seem to scream in anguish
Of the childhood you spent
Roaming amongst these woods
Now they remain
Simply a funeral home
For trees dying one day at a time
Much like you
Still soaking life in through your roots
As you stretch your branches even further
Grow ever taller
Towards the heaven
Which you only pray exist
In empty church pews
Stained with spilled wine
From the final day you still believed
In the ghost they claim walks among us still
But that day was long ago
Nowadays these false religions
Only coexists with you as fuel to the fires
That have ravaged several forest to ashes in the dirt
They looked a lot like yours
And suddenly you realize
That you're the last tree standing in your forest
And it's a dry day
A wedding day
For a forest fire and a final goodbye