Penetrant, corvine and ginkgo

There is a piercing cry from somewhere within, and the cavernous walls tremble with its ferocity. It's a hunger, a lust, a deep and soulful longing. Nothing short of eating crow could satisfy the need, the desperation, the hope. Waiting for this small yellow tree to grow into a man, waiting for too long. Waiting is so wrong. And yet waiting is all that can be done.