Withering woods

The forest stretches with endless trees,

Swaying in the morning breeze,

Insects chirp

And frogs burp.

The days go on with peace

But the tranquility will soon cease,

As the waters rise,

Disasters arrives. 

Endless greens now empty plains,

Dry tundras are all that remains,

Once mighty glaciers,

Now drifting blocks.

Once vast blue skies now thick greys,

The air now a thick haze,

The days of peace so long ago.