Trees.

I stared in awe at the orange rustling leaves and the steady foundation of their trunks.

The soft breeze bit my cheeks and at the same time, the leaves flew aimlessly without a worry in the world.

The forest, a place of life, filled my nostrils with the cold aroma of fauna, and it became a place that I never wanted to leave.

Countless trees surrounded and towered above me as I rested on the wet grass with a tickling sensation on my neck.

As relaxing as it was, it reminded me of my departed mother who caressed me with warm and welcoming hands. 

I never thought she'd leave me,

But she lost a five-year battle against cancer.

The trees, as old as they were, stood their ground with pride and grandeur without the worry of one day facing death from old age.

Today, I stare at the beheaded sight of trunks as hellfire rained down on them.

The hands of men were followed by the Grim Reaper as another forest turns into another ten hectares of city land.

What once was a vibrant home with singing birds and rustling leaves is now a bleak and desolate area of nothing which has lost all of its life.