I timidly peered out the window at the ground far, far below. My hands quaked hard as I desperately pulled myself back into my seat. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down, but to no avail.
Maybe this helicopter tour wasn't the best idea.

Hidden in the shadows
Of a forest
Beneath the undergrowth
Is a wild path
Whispers of the trees
Guide the way
Songs of the Birds
Just ahead, but never in sight
Shaped by your thoughts
Never still, but moving
Follow the path of your dreams

There is a tree
That I like to see
It is strong under the sun
But it can not run
For it is bound
To the ground

The mourning wind assails the night
As twilight darkens around the sky
A wisp of wind across the dark
A silent wailing about the wood

So quickly the sunset fades around the bitter cold
And birds fly upon darkening sky
Of shades of blue it stretches out
Looming and still as howling wind sweeps through

The black branches waving about
Brushing against themselves in the breeze
The trunk is unmoved above the ground
And its bark black on the horizon

There are trees near the side of the road...

Strong and starkly beautiful.
They are filled with gentle strength.
Reaching upwards, dark against
The clear, blue sky.

Straight and true,
The stand curving upwards.
Waiting patiently for spring
They grow strong together.

Holding secrets, memories
and hiding places.
Deeply rooted in the ground,
Firm and unmoving.

Towering above me,
Gnarled and time worn.
All waiting to unfold, to spring forth
In a new beginning, with new life.

Today,
the tree watches sadly,
a hundred years
of what we might have become.
Every day he sighs,
while roots struggle
through cracks in the pavement.
Each day is a torment
that nobody hears,
lost in sirens and
unearthly noise.
Each day they all smile,
trapped behind bars
in a fortress of stone
and of fear.
The city teems every night
in unholy light
and traffic throbs
in the veins of progress.
One day,
the volcano may erupt,