1. DRUDGE TO THE TICKET

A monument to all past failures and woe.
The mighty fir digs deep into the earth,
Absorbing its very lifesource.

It's gnarled branches cut stone and flesh alike.
Forming an inescapable labyrinth, infinite when looked upon.
Majestic and grand,
Stealing my eyes and consuming my thoughts.

Slave to it's will, dependent upon it's guidance;
I live forever trapped, limited, deprived of true life.

I cling to it's branches where sparse nutrients lie,
As I gaze past the horizon at the infinite brush,
Contrasting all of my brethren sunken deep into the mud,
Never to escape the grasp of the mighty.

Incission follows cut, then bludgeon of the cursed fir; the Tree weeps acrid sap.
All of my efforts are useless it seems:
Horrifically, its sapplings prey on my fears regenerating what Was forgotton.
Necessarily hidden in the filth, providing sustenance for the Thicket.

Forever I'll remain, entagled in the roots,

Trapped behind the gnarled branches.
Wondering what may have laid in the green pastures seemingly So far away.

All of my life, culminating into one act.
The act which would bind myself into slavery.