little faces

Trees have little faces.
Cheeky and playful. 
I see them, 
hear there voices.

They speak things into existence.
A grand market,

A small shop, 
Two sisters.

They whisper,
A warning,
Don't follow them,
Return to your nature. 

But I want a future 
beyond this adventure,
The past presents  a real of truth,
insisting that the future, 
will follow suit.

Beyond it,
despite it,
I need it,

Or more,
I want it.

Even just the pretense of stability for myself
and my dearest,
more than me. 
Artemis walks on tainted stalks, woven in lies.

Sacrificed her.
Without real choice.
I am so sorry little bird. 
She loved you more than me,
And I loved you more then me.
I am all she has now and I am not enough.

As much as I hate them. I hope they will be good to you and you will be free and live.