A mountain spat

Blackening the forest floor

The sounds soaked deep

Where the darkness sat

Until they were heard no more

In that landscape of no escape

A sea of trees blossomed

Blooming with despair

Beneath a stone

A moan

A groan

A sigh

And flowing with the wind was

A lock of someone’s hair

Sometimes a rope

A vine

A cry

In this place the hopeless hope

To die

Sometime in the year 1886

A man jilted with love

Said farewell