There grows an ominous tree
In a place known by too few
With scrupulous hands
Extending out upon it's branches
Like leaves in the wind
They rustle and connive
Planning in secret
What they will do next
Up on a hill
Exceeding anyone's vision
Beyond the range of the inconspicuous masses
It plots and it plans,
A campaign that's an age old mission
One of the utmost precision

If one comes across the hand tree
Beware and take heed
For the Hand Tree will try to lure you into it's nefarious rule
Attempting to persuade you
With persuasive allure
Pollination
With the deception seed
Growing inside
As you blossom into a bumbling fool

A sapling of the old grand master Tree
No longer sure
Disillusioned
With no concept
Of what is once like
To have once have been free
Even less now than that of a Douglas Fur

You'll grow into an ungainly hand,
Unable to see.
So be sure to not get too close
But try and remain aware than most
For if you don't
You will surely become one of it's unwilling host
Forever bound in it's grasp
Clasped by that of the Hidden Hand Tree.