The battle has not yet ended
but he cannot move
as if glued to the earths surface
he screams
not only in pain but in fear
he reaches out to the rain filled sky
sunlight surrounding,
her branches extending up and out as far in any direction possible
unable to move, unable to stray from this one spot
unable to surface her roots and travel
so she stares,
in wonder and amazement
pondering the good and evil she has witnessed.
he looks about hopelessly
screams for assistance,
but only the beautiful wildlife surrounds him.
comforts him
trees, ah, sweet benevolent trees.
how he envied them.
gods, looking down upon this destruction
living forever,
without worry or fear
oh, the great wars taken place
the absurd gods of flesh and bone.
foolish superiors to her
using their gift of movement for the vulgar act of malice and destruction
unfortunate, that the gods cant grasp the concept of peace
but instead they use weapons of destruction to kill us
and to abolish one another
he is weak
he tries to cry
but cannot find his voice
he looks around violently
and sees the trees, beautiful trees
but one stands out from the rest
reaching as high as the clouds
he crawls toward the roots
and he lies there, limply
at the God's roots.
glaring out at the death the others have surrendered to
the death that would soon close upon him.
the death he is now awaiting
and there at the foot of the tree
he closes his eyes for the last time
and his arms fall limp at his sides.
noises.
the loud cry of the transportation systems the gods use now
oh, how they abandon their gift out of pure laziness
they come, the gods,
their tools of destruction in hand
they fly out at me.
sharp pains against my trunk
they are half way, and i give up
no longer able to support myself
i fall
finally i have been granted the gift of movement
and my branches touch the earth,
at the gods feet.
