My Song

I extend a damp branch, heal the girl within

I sigh 

It is an intricate melody of all things

A flower, blooming, calls my name

I spill my beauty over her ground

I lift the song of trees into the wind

Birds fly on the tune, soaring higher

The harmony of my patterns, disturbed greatly

No longer flow like a gentle river

A breathtaking creature, thousands more

Ripped from me, gone

The colours I give, the blues and greens

Replaced with the dull tone of grey

I give, and give, and give

My song stills, dark and broken

I am nature, I am raw and pained

Beautiful, I call, who is there to help me?