My old friend has led me to hold this leaf
Adopt its shape, its veins
Come a long way through regarding this dry and windless riverbed
The stones move of themselves
Shifting how I felt
Was it only nature making all my darkest stories
Or my deeper will, understanding mortality
Veined and ancient hands thicker than the trees
Weave my memories
Shown the map once only
Only shown once I forget
Move by consuming
Distill my last senses
Stones move of themselves
Shifting how I felt
Failed dreams scattered on the ground
They're there to curl my roots around
Though I'm small
I've been given a hollowed-out place in which I can begin