A thin and measly twig protrudes,
straight of the plane of gray vastness,
cracks slowly creep and spread around,
herald the time of happiness

When clouds of smoke and dust arise,
and nearly nothing can be seen,
the twig fights hard it doesn't budge,
it knows what weakness means for him

He saw his kin give up and die,
one day the green is here and lives,
the next, gray takes the charge again,
it's hard when anybody leaves

The twig got smashed, had little sun,
It's leaves were bit, it's roots had rot,
but soul of green still brighly lit,
will show the gray what strength he's got