Towering tree emboldened and green
Leaning towards heaven, leaning towards me.
A vestige of birth, a grievance from earth
From Gothic cathedrals to the trodden dirt
He speaks to the people? It seems He's not there!
Faithful parishioners what do you declare?
Does man and his mistress have purposeful time
To journey through hardship and walk like the blind?
The answer's in death. This miserable game!
Resorting to reason the righteous are shamed.
But shamed they are not if falsehood persists.
Coasting along this eternal drift.
Towering tree emboldened and green
Leaning towards heaven, leaning towards me.
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