Queen Of The Woodland Realm

The black birds gather
Harbingers of death whisper of a coming storm
The old growth bows to the roaring winds
For hundreds of years he throned over this primeval forest

A thousand spirits of the woods encircle his crown
Homeless they'll fade into the opaque void
The spotted owls disappear at first
Like ghosts of a dying world they vanish in the night

Behold the omen
A new age dawns
Eternal darkness enshrouds the canopy
The stars turn black
They die in silence
No crescent illuminates the nightsky

A thousand dying birds fall from the heavens
All life ends on this fateful day

Behold the queen of the woodland realm
The feral mother emerges one last time
Where a fern flower unrolled its seedless leaves
Enfeebled she stalks the alder thicket

With the arrival of the coming storm
Her graceful appearance will leave this world forever
Forever