Speaking Forest

Where are you O God!
My pains are little odd.
Growing daily, then it shreds.
It happens to all, as you said.
Listen to one exception lame-
I but have a vital problem.
They are my weak points, amen.
Should I die watching their pains?
Do you want something in return?
So soon, God, forgotten?
For grand total of world’s pain
I shared a lot, helped you then.
Isn’t that the compensation?
Let me die in this fashion.
Please help them… save them.
Tear me apart for their frames.
Let this copse collapse.
Their houses, my corpse.
Let my branches maim.
Help them… save them
Let live the human’s years.
Albeit it I can’t share.


23 Lines