Removing the few remaining leaves
Fall is almost over now, winter soon begins
The branches of the trees lift their thin hands
To the sky, imploring the gods to release them
To free them from the heavy earth
They beg to drift with the winds
Passing over the earth and viewing all
To see the wonders they can only imagine
Over the crest of the hill, the barrier to their world
Year after year they yearn to see
They strain to lift themselves from the earth
Ever higher they lift their branches to the skies
Growing, stretching further, crying out to the gods
Never do they turn to see that they can now
Look beyond the hill, that they have grown
Beyond the height of the highest ridge
Only do they look up, begging
For what they could have if only they would
Never so they see that beyond the hill
Lies a desert, empty and desolate
Without life, burning and scorched
Only do they beg to be released
To search for the paradise they see in their minds
Dreams of that which does not exist
For their is no paradise beyond the hill
Only death waits for them there
But never will they see that
For their desires have blinded them
To the truth