Monday, December 31, 2012


From your bones, our prosperity will rise
We plunder and cut, until your demise
Your darkened bark, turns scarred black
And into your flesh, our axes will hack
You tremble and shake, your branches quivering
Your leaves will shudder, like you're shivering
Down your bark, blood leaves a trail
As it slides in to, our silver pail 

Flames they flicker, burning your skin,
Leaving death, where life had been
Your arms they fall, like boulders to the ground
They penetrate the floor, not making a sound
We take away, and don't give back
Instead we go whack, whack, whack