Woodland

Behind the rusty truck,
Travel up the dense woodland,
Where the sunlight can’t reach,
Where the summer can’t sing.

Desolate but strong,
The trees stand and wave,
To a million robins,
Flying to distanced sea.

When the wheels keep rolling,
Water splashed up in the air,
Leaving behind cold trails,
Leading to nowhere.

The blazing sun goes down,
Behind the beloved horizon,
Casting shadows upon the leaves,
Bringing darkness up our sleeves.

Alas, the illusions of the wild,
Hidden beneath the universe,
Attracts the wildest dreams,
Gone away the fears.