She's dying

someone howled

a sound like a lyrebird shot dead by the merciless flick of a wrist

her blood ran dry 

the thin limbs lay stark, blackened by the soot

devoid of the leafy foliage that used to cling tight

back in the ol’ days

the verdant dress that hung from her body

was reduced to barren rags

and her children that once roamed this void

were plucked from existence

long before she mourned

the mother was losing the battle I had brought upon her

and my breath hitched

as she cast one glaring, unforgivable look

before the withering tendrils of death crushed her 

viridescent frame