A forest layered fruitfully with brutal beauty - favored by the Hangman.
For it is plentiful steeples - devouring the heavens.
Paths winding, coiling - a bending cord, engineering the way,
Through smooth laceration of disrobed flesh.

Bundle to juvenile, juvenile to swain, swain to ancient, ancient to dust.
Stand and behold the golden bodies - favored by the Hangman.
For they swing suspended, hanging, changing crimson with a rush of blush.

A chilling; abrupt, tempo sways, pushing and pulling.
Crimson bodies unexpectedly uprooted and polluted.
Crumbling to unhallowed creation - favored by the Hangman.
Now laying decaying, split from the origin, lingering for next year.