Tangled vines are suffocating swaying
oak trees. Deep within the forest, singing
birds are silenced -- ivy climbs to conquer.
Camouflaged as green and bright, the thread
rope grasps and chokes the boughs until they crack.

Spreading out its arms it falls, and no
one hears a sound. No axe or flock of men
in sight, lugging heavy cranes of steel.
Sometimes flowing rivers don't ***** forest
fires. Sometimes latching on too tightly
can hinder blooming flowers. The tree lets brothers
grow tall, then looks ahead -- not left and right.