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This place was all

The trees they sing

Choruses of pain echo

All around me

As I step into

This oaken frontier

I weep

For the lost woodland souls

The undergrowth overtakes the once thriving old woods

And as I ponder Man's footprint

it can be felt deep into this ancient grove

I'm lost, as I fear we all are

But there's always hope

The folly of man

Are we too far gone, unable to turn back?

Or can we all rediscover this wondrous beauty?

Is this our legacy?

If all we leave behind

Is this charred oak

Then aren't we paragons of ruination?