Flow..

Walk amidst the leafy darkness,
Shadows may well be spirits.
The endless chasm that opens above you,
Awaiting the sap thats about to leave.
 
Tiny domes of red and black,
That drop a trail of you behind,
For the ones that creep,
 Inspiring what you leave in your wake.
 
As you fall senseless,
The life force now run dry,
'They' kneel around your shell.
They press your fleeting soul back in.
 
But then She comes along,
The haunting epitome of times bygone,
Step by step she makes her way,
Into visions she then leads.
 
Faster over than begun,
The kiss of life comes now,
The kiss of life that kills you,
In a glow of white you dissipate.