The owl and the forest

As the sun sets, night rises.
Birds slumber but not the owl.
It awakens, ready for flight.
Sharp eyes glimmer, it shoots down like an arrow
Claws out, it grabs its prey.
Soon night becomes day.
The sky lightens as owl flies home.
But its home was not to be,
Chopped down to a stump.
Owl tears fall like little rain drops
As homes rise from the ground to house humans,
In a forest once for animals.