Woods in Isolation

Between the brown and husk of trees

You’ll hear my ghostly whisper through the leaves

 

The isolation of the woods, where I’m alone

Is the only place that truly feels to me like home

 

When I leave this Earth, take me to these woods

Do not leave me here, or rest I just never would

 

I want the dry ashes of my own flesh and bones

To blow to the river and settle in the stones

 

I despise the city, modern times at its worst

When I die, I’d like to be free, not in the horrid city under dirt

 

The gleaming shades of emerald, the fresh smell of pine

In the woods is more desirable than in the city, confined

 

I’d like to cease knowing I’d go away to my only true home

Only in the woods is where my callous, cold spirit could roam