Muddy footprints, and the howling moon,
This forest welcomed me,
With the mist cuddling around
and the silence drumming noises
Seeking my way, reached that log,
deforested! Missing it's fruit!
This log, I sat on,
and brushed my bruises and wounds
While I was covering
unknown routes
This log, broken and sad
proved it to me
that heartbroken ones,
missing their fruits,
once the parts of them,
are the most helpful
and the only who wipe our tears
in this evil, unknown world
