Only a deceased life survives
Dead before it was even born
Passed away in this decrepit forest
A segregated spectrum of being
Reanimation a common practice
Though we never existed prior
This is the stasis that we weather
Sustained in a cycle of grim decay
Only those already dead can live
The truest form of persistence
Unending grimness
In this forest which I love
Rising high above the shadow horizon
A dark world sculpted from my soul
Petrified wood in an ocean of chalk
Infatuation with morbid desiccation