An oaken citadel Unscathed by the touch of man Intrusion deep within The womb of an ancient land Could this be a sacred place Sheltered from the war? Treasures for the powerful lie Beyond the ivy door
Dusk settles Trees beyond the reach of the sun Languishing the tale Of a former age Time speaks another tongue The path is always fleeting Never to be found The trees are always whispering Never to be heard
Whispers pierce the stillness From a dark place beyond the mist Path growing colder Trees wither away
Out of the woods comes a cry A cry of distress Onward we march Deep heart of this forest Where an ancient evil seethes From the roots of the trees Inner sanctum, night ellipses day Calmly sits a bearded man Deep in meditation His lips begin to move An out-pour of forbidden love
