A piece to celebrate my business launch.
Once my crown ascended o’er the wilderness
To lofty heights where only griffons fly.
I played the oracle and told the tales
While, in my shade, the saplings sought my power.
In jealousy they cut me down; “Thor’s Oak
No more!” they cried. They grew, and stole the sun,
The precious sun that nourished me so long.
I must escape; new shoots require the sun.
The canopy is thick, but this I know:
Ancient oaks may pierce the rocky topsoil
To drink from wells that saplings never know.
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