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)