Though death, disease, and clime

Take relentless toll

The forest does remain

To stand the whims of time

Through pests and pestilence and grime

Through harbingers of death

Through wind and rain and flame

Through harbourers of blight

Shelters saplings from the rime

Abides the old and gnarled

The infirm and the infected

Endures the twisted and unclean

She stands, eternal and sublime

For death, disease, and storm

Must needs be borne

And fire, pest, and chaos

To stand the winds of time