The stories speak of trees that think
Of singing mist, nameless flowers in footprints
Tonight, tales are truths
We are silence
We are wood
We are leaf
Ten days, one thousand trees
Our enemy marches from the east
Sentries of fire, guards of steel
Watching, burning, anise and bone
All ways are shut, we closed them
All but one
A gauntlet hewn from trees
Where deadly birds await
With eyes of green
They come on the solstice
God on their tongues
Frost on their guns
Lead by one of our own
The path, her veins
Chains chattering from her collar
Blood and rust
Silent in the trees, bullet's gaze upon her face
We watch her lead
Then she falls, shot in the head
They call for another green-skin
To lead them through this cursed forest
We fall before they chain up their prey
Deadly windfall from fatal trees
Reclaim our girl's body
Feed her to the fire
Her ashes to the wind
Homecoming is the dead's only poetry
Homecoming is the dead's only poetry
Long live cascadia!
Long live this fight!
Long live the hearts of the fallen
Who blood-fed the earth
Bodies, like so many leaves
Falling
Like their angels
Morrígu, I dedicate this battle to
Bogachiel, protect us
Cernunnos, keep our fires strong
Earth, heal us
The night pale
With snow
Ground warm
Red
Like a womb
