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
