Her Call

The wind tells a story, 
Her sound a melody in the sky, 
But her tune is of sorrow, 
The notes a desperate cry. 
She calls out to us, 
In a pained and lost plea, 
"Nature is being lost!" she yells, 
Her wail loud and free. 
"Our flowers are dead, 
The trees are dying!
We scream for help, 
But none hear our crying."
Her voice is now fading, 
A ringing in our ears, 
As the world forgets once more, 
And the wind disappears.