The Last Hope

The air is grey and dull while smoke as dark as the midnight sky suffocates my leaves. 

The sound of the factories growling and grumbling,  

So loud that it silences any other sounds, 

Battles against my branches.  

The people are coming with axes and knives, to get rid of me bit by bit, 

The louder the footsteps get, the more I worry.  

I feel the cold, hard metal ladder against me then the hot, gooey breaths  

The axe comes out and my branch drops to the ground.  

I feel my sap oozing out and memory flashes to my head. 

The wind was like an old friend that whispered into my leaves as it gently greeted me. 

The birds were singing like a choir and the wind against my leaves was its orchestra. 

The animals were chasing each other until they saw something alien looking. 

Their marching changed the rhythm of the song, ending the music.  

Silence. 

Crack! Another’s branch thuds to the ground… I look down… it is mine. 

Another memory races through my mind 

The ground is black and the sky is grey as I watch the last bird fly off, 

Before I can think any deeper a sharp pain cuts through my trunk and I start falling to the ground 

I crash onto the black dirt; thick dust covers the sky and I hear the coughs of the humans. 

All my hope is gone until I see a green sapling emerging from the crusty earth.