The Cabin

In a valley underneath and in between the trees lies a piece of me Broken glass on highway streets and underneath my feet lives parasitic greed Lavender and Christmas trees entwined in evergreens the paintings in my sleeves Grass of green and orange mountains, few and far between Here lies godforsaken fountain, filled with fallen leaves A lonely cabin breathlessly awaiting to be seen with little self esteem As he waits he falls asleep he's trying to at least and counting endless sheep To rectify his fallen dream a friend is all he needs with nails and wooden beams The saplings died and he was screaming, embalming all their seeds Here lies the bed where he was dreaming, filled with enemies Precipitation on his face falls down The perspiration in his mind comes out The devastation that has come about Imagination finds itself a house In a hollow crookedly she's busy writing me a parchment memory Perched atop a wooden wreath abiding to the peace to which we did agree Fractured bones and shattered teeth, she's asking me to grieve but I've no empathy Listen now to what I'm preaching, we're walking to the sea Here lies the home from which we're leaving, it's never too be seen The cabin's grave is here and gleaming, he's finally deceased He died alone and he was bleeding, his blood had formed a stream (to me)