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Go back to the tainted streams,
The Underwood forest, the sky that gleams.
Revert to the Redwood tree,
To the sparrow that nestles with the hope to be freed.
I seek to go back, back to the dungeons,
To the beaming red gazes and the sly-painted grins.
It haunts my lacking, my presence not whole,
That I go to these places beyond my heart’s control.
I see to it true, I go back in time,
But I speak with no words, concealed like a mime.
My thoughts over yonder, but my body held true,
Can’t ever justify those things I didn’t do.
For this I go back, to the Redwood tree,
To the scarlet-faced woodpecker, teeming with greed.
A heart well-stabbed taints red the clear streams,
As His pitchfork sends me away from the sky that gleams.