Must, smell it, breath the dust
The mountain arches its back
Eternally stretched under the forest
Lurking under sea of green

The flowers in bloom smell of perfume
No sunlight they catch today
The sun shows light but not his face
Clammy cold shivers and mist in his place

Trees cover the earth and smother the sky
Rocks jut from the green to be free
The brook can be heard trickling by
The cottage sinks down in its slumber

It sits in a morass of green-goo decay
Though warm and inviting it is
It seems very soon it will see its last day
Though not too soon I believe