An axe was put to a tree;
a sharpened tool cut,
causing pain.
Causing pain.
Blow by blow, that tree shuddered;
what once was solid and strong
became fragile.
The tree no longer had confidence
in being able to stand
straight and tall.
Too much damage
had been done.
I wish my hand
had never gripped
that axe of destruction.
I long for the tree
to be whole again.
I weep for what I have wrought;
my tears are not enough
to replenish the strength
of that beautiful tree
I caused to suffer.