Forest Art

There is something evil in these woods
Waiting for us to falter
When our breath becomes ragged and our throats are lined with fire
It will speak to us from every direction
Anger — at the edge of the clearing
Where sight ends and scents begin
It calls me ever- inward
Converting those like me, into
Exhibit A for purging the all the earth
Sadness — as I hear my loved ones calling
Will they see my footsteps in the Spring
I hope they love the real me
Not the images they’re fed from
That blue light that translates my memory
It says
«You will become my art
You will paint the forest floor
You don’t deserve the earth
It don’t love you anymore»
In another decade, they will find it
Humans turned into bloody mural
WIth a single message beneath these decomposing leaves
«You all created me.»
There is something evil in these woods
Waiting for us to falter, (here it goes)
When our breath becomes ragged and our throats are lined with fire
It will say «bow down and pray your fucking prayers»
There is something evil in these woods
Waiting for us to falter, (here it goes)
When our breath becomes ragged and our throats are lined with fire
With our final breath we will see the hidden truth, we are the evil in these
woods