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Branches bending, writhing in anger.
My transgression has ruined nature,
a moment of weakness, and fate was sealed.
Oh how the tree beckons me!
Calls me with those arms of despair,
with the promise of release,
release from the agony I have inflicted...
upon one so innocent, pure... a lamb.
I was paid for my deed!
or was it?
This field will be my grave,
this tree my tombstone.
A testament to my action...
Blood money bought,
rewarded in blood.
The promise of agony is little
compared to the hatred I have
caused, end it tree of woe!
Take my life freely, it is mine to give.
I hear your whispers... promise of release
Call my name......
atheist poet.


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