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You pace the forest with comfortable decadence, seizing a power you have but do not know.
Lying in the sun, the beast comes to take you on, up to the next plateau.
You’re a pinch-kissed cowardly lion, dangling from the hands of destiny’s time.
You seek honesty from the mouth of a friend, a judge whose sentence never fits a crime.
Blood stains a yellow road where love is flooded & washed to sea.
You know, I know there are sharpened rubies in Hell, waiting for me.

You are stuck in formation, congealed with decadence, hoping the sun does not go down.
Before your friends ramble and tease, your cool feet will rust in the ground.
There is oil that keeps you moving. It gives the honor which makes wrong right.
Now your tinny eyes are frozen, transfixed on the pinch of a needle’s bite.
Your friends are coming now to give a heart which they bestrode.
It is there love never blossoms, in the roots that they have sowed.

You are dancing when not decadent, yet ignorant in vain,
And your friends drip with despair so that they’re feeding from your brain.
Remember - vended produce fills you up – knowledge bestowed.
Although it may never help you, take an apple for the road.
God has cast a lively ember on the straw of this attire.
So let your friends come dote upon the contents of the fire.

Sleep soundly in your decadence, with red to match your shoes.
While lost inside the daydream, play a game that you only lose.
Look for the good witch, beckoning as every intent steals,
And spend your last days muttering to yourself, clicking your heels.
Into the dawn you will discover nothing as you go
In search of homely comfort beyond, over the rainbow.

Awake among the poppies, we can find you in dream
Where the turning of an hourglass exhumes your private seam.
A hero in a dart places himself upon your wall,
As we can only watch it from this tiny crystal ball.
Up close, true friends are crying and scolding in their attack,
But I can see few good witches smiling in the back.
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