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The old twisted tree haunts my dreams, more real than in waking hours, a wicked darkness oozes from harsh seams, displaying its fearful powers. Those gnarled branches are filled with knotted fingers, howling in the wind's fervent fray; In the whole forest this sound lingers- and the only defense is to kneel and pray? I must face this tree with mighty axe, Slicing through the thick bark, once and for all, felling this twisted monster is my task relishing in that evil monster's fall. brave woodcutter, unleash those mighty blows, and make sure that no new offspring there grows! C..B 2011