To know the pain
Is to know the rain
On a warm winter’s day
With no sway to the naked, dead Forks
Which torture my mind
Like days gone by

Who knows the truth
But these tall & ancient monuments
Which are nature’s gown
And Men try to strip down

But all in vain
For through the trees
They cannot see
No matter who they hire

They will never find
The Peace of Mind
Which they eventually seek
To free their heads
From all which they couldn’t have
Or be

But neither will I
Find enough supply
To throw off these empty shadows

And where could I go
To relieve what I know
Except anywhere that I’ve not already been