Lost in the Wentwood

Somewhere in the trees in the darkness and the deep
At the end of the trail under leaves and bark, lay your head down and sleep
The forest has receded but it looms high above the hill
Impenetrable and ancient it hides its secrets still

Uwchcoed above the wood, Iscoed below
Split between the river and the blood red clay
I am lost in the Wentwood I am lost on a path through the trees
No one will еver find, they’ll nevеr find me
Sweet heavy smell, fallen branches and a sea of bluebells

Devils stinkhorn fills the air towering broad leaf trees
Boney fingers dig through soft damp mulch, there are things that we can’t see
Nothing moves on the surface but somethings breathing underneath
Guarding its secret still, we can never leave

Shadows under the canopy whispering their spells
Smoke and fire in a clearing wild eyes peering in
Twin sparks of a reflected flame watch the ritual begin
I am lost in the Wentwood I am lost on a path through the trees