The Whispers in the Woods

I press my forehead to the oak's cool skin

The forest breathes, alive, yet dead with a wooden heartache

Its branches sway, whispering deep within

While rivers sing lullabies to the trees.

The oak speaks, its voice trembling with grief

"My friends are gone, falling one by one

Our roots were once grounded to the earth in hope

But now we wither beneath the sun."

I lean closer, feeling its ancient veins

“What broke them? Why did they disappear?”

“The axes tore through us, craving for riches, a soft veil of pain echoing throughout the air.

The wind, a prophet, hiding whispers of pure fear.”

Now, I stand in silence where green giants once grew

Their stories fade, like dusk’s dying light

I cry for the loss, for all they once knew

For homes lost, like leaves on the wind too.

"Child, I’m the last of a fading past

Our roots once grounded to the Earth in hope

Speak for us, before the moment has passed

Before silence takes the forest too."