We are where the wandering ends Where the inner compass points down This old tree, with a pit under the roots Spotting makeshift stairs going down Senses the oracle in wait for a seeker Anchorites sealed in their ground Prometheus from the bogs Whose spirits talk to pilgrims Anchorites sealed in their ground The voice that once whispered in their minds now fades away Devoted lives to welcome successors... Digging, worming downward the warren Overhead, an emerald cathedral Hermitage in digging, self-burial The roots culminating to a nave Heirloom passed down To the one who will voice the tree The voice that once whispered in their minds now fades away Devoted his last breath to welcome the successor... Digging, worming downward the warren Overhead, an emerald cathedral Hermitage in digging, self-burial The roots culminating to a nave Heirloom passed down To the one who will voice the tree Anchorite in an emerald cathedral No longer set to animate flesh Anchorite at last falls asleep, and becomes wood