Once, they were white roots that spread
from the heart of the world,
seeping life while chanting song.
The song of the earth, the song of the people,
connected, one. Sprouts no matter the ground.
But then the heart was trampled, torn
from what it loved
to hold up what it despised.
Shadows crept into it, whispers of malice
disguised as pure intent, and it was too gullible not to see.
The roots morphed into bulging veins
filled with poison, and there they bled out.