Penitent. Ancient Wisdom Of The Forest. Zeneszám

Far away where the woods are dark.
There I sit by the tree of wisdom.
Never to be closer to its essence.
I now await its hidden knowledge.

I cry for my soul is wounded.
When you come you smile,
and do not find it strange that I am alone.
I am cherished by your beauty as I am waiting.

You ask me what my wonders are.
My instant response tells you;
I feel all alone.
You say I cannot possibly mean so.