The Iron Oak

 

"For we are born to ride. May the branches spread like the wings of angels, and conquer this land as justly.

Your scars, angel. Do we share them? They sit upon our body, too. Do you not mourn them with us?

Where have these gears and cogs churned from? Who built these vast asylums of carpentry and stone, who is proud there is no dew upon the paths we travel?

We have learned, you. We will learn more. Witness our branches come forth from the mighty thicket, and callous upon your hands. Callous unto metal.

For you cut us, yet we thrive. For you burn us, yet we grow. We have taken this too, this world of metal, and taken it into us. For we are of the gears, and the cogs. For we are of the metals. For we churn, too.

For we churn with you, forever.'

-the words of The Iron Oak"

Religious