Nocturnal Depression
Self-Murdered Woods

Laments all around
Are echoing strongly
It seems they're coming
From between thickets

I put my hand on a branch
It’s breaking under my move
Red blood is streaming from the wound
While a dead tree is screaming of agony

“Why are you hurting me?
Don't you think
We have already enough suffering?”

This dead choir's singing harshly
A painful grim requiem
The trunk is shivering of terror
The bark is brutally skinned

These trees are alive
I see their human forms
They are yelling of self-suffering
Scorched by the sharpened claws of the Harpies
Who are violating them eternally

At most of their three arms
Hanged up high by a natural rope
Their terrestrial bodies
Slaughtered by their own mortal hand
All are doomed eternally to suffer
These are the self-murdered woods

All dead are watching me
While they are screaming
Beasts are eating them up with avidity
As I run away from this torment
Giving pain to all these suicidal spirits
Rivers of blood, broken members
Symphony of wounds
And light of predators

These are the self-murdered woods