Four against a tree, sitting with the bees
Someone new leans against the tree, who could it be?
A child, dressed in tan and black
A knife on his belt, smeared in blood
The Four believe he’s not here to have fun
One by one, he lures them away
Never again able to laugh and play
All but one who sits and stares
As the tree of bees turns into a tree of nightmares
Years later the fourth returns again
Staring at that tree of pain
He lays down next to the tree
Laying with the flowers and bees
He stares up at the sky
Watching as time flies by
All the while he sits and stares
Staring at the leaves of the tree of nightmares