Dead trees
Open up for me
Teeming
With all these crawling thieves
Gnashing and scratching
Over your rotted rings

Dead leaves
Make a bed for me
Tonight
Where I may fall asleep
Dreaming of morning
When I shall mourn for thee

Judge me not for what I’ve become
There’s nothing
More left to be done
All that remains
Is long dead and gone

Heavy
Sighs the rusted breeze
Dragging
Over sunken peat
Roses once blood-bloomеd
Wither in ashen heaps
Buriеd
All these fleshed dreams
No more
Fighting night with their heat
Slack and receding
Cold as the earth where they sleep

Judge me not
My jury of bones
Glaring
From eyes gray as stone
Justice in black
Seeps from her rotting throne

Judge me not for what I’ve become
There’s nothing
More left to be done
All that remains
Is long dead and gone