My wise tree stands on the hill
his branches bare and shrill
its green dimmed by light
with birds swift at their flight  
My oak a hermit amongst the green
his roots sunk to the earth
his shade shows his wide grin
on the earth that gave us birth
deep to another world of dream and sleep his roots reach deep
 

silently shout when you're in doubt
whispers of malice keep out
to my content i live in fear
of the voices that i must not hear
surprised to no end of twists and turns
a path with no reach burns

confusion surrounds the heart 

fondles the beat with cold arms 

anger takes your mind

leaving your friends behind

depression consumes your soul

yet your face didn't show it at all

in the end of a rope you hang your soul

leaving us to wonder about it all

through our lips lies pour out
through the eye our soul reaches out
our promises ever last
not even time can fix the past
to my fate i seek to see
a soul that will reach out for me

faces are two
to whom and to who?
whom's face smiles to me
and who's lie do i see?
both be one and both are to be seen
but to me they are different, behind which am i seen?

i am not white neither am i black
my fate does not rest inside a sack
there will be no hare such as i
from the day i was born to flee, to the day i will die
slumber i will as hard it may be
the snow is my friend
it shall not betray me

a poem

i have no names 
i have no eyes  
but my soul is filled with fire flies 
to my dismay all is real 
and too is very hard to deal 
i smell hearts silently thump 
but if i shatter away will it all be dump?