Don't Go

Rushing through the forest,
What choice did I have?
It was either that or the passing of Billy.
The fleeting smell of moisture which lied on the sleeping soil,
For I embraced it all as it was being taken down. Forever.

My sanctuary. My quiet place. Gone. 
Only logs and tall grass were yet to have departed. 
I strolled through the area, hands trembling. 
Pupils stared intently at the havoc, 
It was then and there that I found Billy.

Darting towards him, 
The immense reverberation of the machines,
This is not how you die, I reassured Billy,
He waved at me as he rested on the soil.

The machines raced towards him, 
I had no choice,
‘STOP!’ I roared at the top of my lungs,
My heart pounding, my legs shaking.

No one moved. Not the machines. Not me. Not Billy. 
His wrinkled bark looked too vulnerable,
His autumn leaves rested on the grass. 
I had to let it go. I had to let him go.