Nature Conquers All

Freedom come, freedom go

Risen by the falling snow

Set in stone, turned to stand

Where the rivers use to stand

Firewall blazing, drenching the soil in mud,

A shame the trees have thud

Down to the ground

Not leaving a sound

Quicksand like slick silver

Unpolished, unfiled, unable to shiver

In any light

Crushed, shamed from the wordly light

Nothing left in a land of mud

A wasteland, baked in the sun

Hot, bitter death

Too much to be put to rest