Hoofprints Tale

Where yet can you go, where yet can you rest,
The snow hides no secrets around my trees.
The towers glare down, their builders obsessed
With building, destroying, your thickets cease.
The apples fall and still no signs of life,
Snow blankets your traces, as do suburbs.
Land so sparse it can be cut with a knife
'Stead two-stories, three-stories, reign superb.
Trees fall with the leaves, and kingdoms do rise,
Snow melts with death of innocent lives.

I follow your trail wishing I'd comply,
And in your haven my breath is a loss
O'erwhelmed with a hush no house could supply
When the being I've searched my path did cross!
So elegant and proud, the forest's Prince,
Ears on a swivel, knowing I'm of them.
How on earth could a man himself convince
That this deer's spirit was his to condemn?
Trees fall with the leaves, and kingdoms do rise,
Snow melts with death of innocent lives.