Haunted...

Golden rays, piercing through the trees,

Gifted with shades of red, brown and green,

They played and formed, natural swings,

Filling the world, with air to breathe,

When it was time, to the Earth they gifted, precious wings.

Wings of soil, for the rest of the trees,

A fertile land, for us human beings,

A pleasant formula, to the air we breathe,

Until one day, I heard them scream,

I saw their souls, was black, not green.

They suffered the flames, that was extreme,

Unbearable pain, from an axe, that's unclean,

From each of us, they asked for help, they screamed,

Instead we sat back, and enjoyed the scene,

They bid farewell, but not in peace.

For decades and decades, the same repeats,

We killed the air, with smoke that's unclean,

We poisoned them, we poisoned the trees,

They bid farewell, with a troubled soul, not free,

Yet we enjoyed, and watched the scene.

Until one morning, the air was filled,

With mist and dust, and air unclean,

We suffered the same, as the trees,

They've come back, the souls, they are not in peace,

They're back to haunt, they're here for justice.

-Debra R. N. Ludwick-