While listening to Arcade Fire.

A dark room
covered with leaves of green.
Leaves blackened
by the hearts of the unwanted.
Feel the need.
Feel the seeds.
Seas of green peas.
Growing from the soil
as dark as Iraqi oil.
Dark tunnels. Archaic Fires.
Raving higher, then it settles.
Boiling in the kettles.
Tealeaves.
Can you tell me my future deeds?
By looking into the blackened leaves.
Of the unwanted.
Haunted
by my past.
Winter's over at last.
Can I leave?