Over the green hills yonder,
the divine tree shimmers
shaking gentle leaves glimmers.
A lonely maiden saunters.
Restless mind and soul bothers
the local animal and plant life that simmers
discomforted with shivers...
she is often fonder
of the decaying leaves and the growth of mushrooms.
For they are delicate and moist.
She picks a shroom of gloom
decides it is a poisonous choice...
Yet she swallows it whole, she is ready for her tomb
The trees no longer rejoice.
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