Treehouse

Alone on the way up
No sound coming out of the radio
Alone on the way back down
Follow where the voice leads
Escape into the walls
Creeping down the hallways
Avoiding all the doors
The tree grows
Through the window
Hanging with its fruit
Pull away the fingers
And chop away the roots
I can hold fast
Grounded to the wooden floor at last
While my hands reach out
The spirit leaves escaping from the ground
Alone on the way up
No sound coming out of the radio
Alone on the way back down
Here such a long time
Here such a
Who built such a strange place?
Wandering through the dark