The Oldest Tree

I traveled to the oldest tree Where i met her and she met me Incense burned my tired eyes She made me tea from the oldest leaves Her silver hair hid a hazy glare Her hands as twisted as the roots beneath The river's broken The ground is sour You'll see the figure In your final hour She hides the key inside her walls To the box inside the tree In the box there was a book It said the figure waits for me The story told that both our souls Are like the roots beneath my feet She says to me, "No beg or plea" Can ever change my destiny The river's broken The ground is sour You'll see the figure In your final hour