A tightly twisted knot of darkness

Hides the reason deep by earth

Roots that feed from tearful seasons

Overflowing Well of dirth

Moonrise draws the sap of sorrow

Moon ebb wanes yet sorrow grows

Habitually the tree remains

A Hedgewytch of the old hedgerow

Bitter sweet to fruit from blossom

Better left to rot unknown

On branches thrown in poise of torment

Shadows cast its tale of woe.