Dead Trees Do Fall Poem by Unic Cjonr

What you present, what you sell, the place where dead trees fell. My fire rage out to control, that will never seal your face to my page. Where i walk, with whom the who, that will be for them to tell. Sacred to my secret surroundings, i bed the thorns, i pay with corn. I bed my life on the dead, do you here my screams, that what is written, flames what was said. You barelytouch the sides, hide your pride on the road which is to narrow, but far too wde