Sustained from the drops of the leaves- I lay beneath the oldest tree
Its branches twisted and smelling of rot; I know its name
Monotony the Tree; Gnarled and boring
Take the ties of three- the Knot of my epiphany
Monotony the Tree;
Harlequin I am when I wield my tongue; The sword of my Speech
The verbal next to none. Dear Monotony the Tree, what have we become?
Simple Sultans of Subtlety? Or a vast majority?
Of the things we have undone.
The roots of what is tall and lame; is far above raged or tame
For the blooming rose-red sister tree; forms with the Monotony
I watched in awe as thee; Entangled themselves next to me.
Alas comes the earth itself, a hermaphroditic entity.
Monotony the Tree