Into the woods
where silence is seething
stagnant smells and stifled breathing
all that lives is wasting away
layer upon layer of death and decay
This is where mama nature lives
and dies
and lived
and died
and however careful you stride
the slight abash sensation
of cracking bones beneath
is as inevitable as the realization
that I am just not
into the woods
I.A.m
these's woods weren't made for walking
but that's just what they'll do
one of these days these woods
are gonna walk all over you
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