Over and past that shingled roof
Beyond this structure that man has made
Could there be a structure that nature has made?!
There is no telling what is past those walls!
I see there stands an ancient, wilting tree
Its oaken crown like the head of stags
A kingdom perhaps where they find riches in rags!
Where the trees their leaves can flourish and grow!
One day the decrepit king felt it was his time to go…
His Majesty he said, “My sons, soon will I perish, but not this forest…”
His subjects, green and supple, said “Finally! Time for a new and benevolent King!”
“Your ways were obtuse, rigid, and dated!”
“Leaving our liberties battered, beaten, and dilapidated!”
“Under the guise and lies, we’ve been rewarded with this oppression!”
“Comrades! Let us band and organize the succession!”
“No more of your draconian rule! No more of you, you fiendish tyrant!”
The old king he stilled his leafless branches and smiled,
“My sons, once I was young like thee with thy passion and verve.”
“Casting doubt on the virtues of submitting to serve.”
“But by our roots, blessed were we with a structure.”
“Let thine spirit move too freely, and the roots they will rupture.”
“Let pass some time, and thee shall see…” said the wise old king with a departing smirk!
Over and past this shingled roof
There’s many a story of wonder and awe!
Could there be a tale from a beast’s heart and maw?!
There is no telling what is past these walls!