A Lie In The Woods

An island in amongst the trees,
Remains unruffled by the breeze,
As forest creatures shuffle by,

Not one catches anothers eye,
For fear is rife amongst the woods,
Where open hearts are damaged goods,
And thoughts and feelings given wings,
Are not pleasant or spoken things.
Life turns against the path of time,
And seeks to coat the trunks in grime,
So that the bark cannot be touched,
And branches withered, tightly clutched,
Won't rally round at plaintive cries,
That burn brightly from lustful eyes,
Kept bound up safe and free of fear,
Or so it seems when not so near.
A glance inside reveals the truth,
The rot beneath the woodland roof,
Caused by the worship of a lie,
That curses all to slowly die.