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.