Passing through the woods on an overcast day
No glaring rays outshone the glorious greens
Deeper into the green I treaded outside the hum
Of people that are doing their job.
I had presumed to own the woods today.
Yet old wounds upon the barks made them see
In beady suspicion, I stood spellbound
Under the wrath of a hundred hissing trees.
What is your business, they hollered as one
I am the vampire that comes to draw your blood
In exile I linger and now I am here
In the copse the council forgot.
Do not ask what we can do for you
We have done quite enough already.