It was on a harsh winter day some long time ago.
The ice-lased winds rocked the leaves to and fro.
And even though it'd been around for a while,
The great big tree could only give a wry smile.
The forest which stood still now shook and shimmered.
The hands of death upon which had been delivered.
The animals burrowed deep in search of shelter
As the snow poured down from sky-high pelters.
The tree stood tall protecting its creatures
Despite the fact they were now just leechers.

For the tree did not care about the suffering it brought upon itself
The reason being that life can only last so long
So as long as it could serve to nurse others to health
He did not mind if this was his last song.
The sky grew dimmer with the bristle of the leaves
The howl of the night had only just begun
And upon his barks lay all the memories
That inspired the tone with which he now hummed.
And despite the fact it didn't speak any form of word
The song it formed spoke clearly still,
"Winds of the night, let my voice be heard,
These creatures shall befall no ill.
It matters not if mother nature hark,
For this is my rebellious last testament."
The wind picked up, the snow pounding upon his bark,
His words now used to his own detriment.

Yet no matter how long the night threatened to last,
Cherry blossom after cherry blossom wilting away,
The tree stood strong and tall and spoke aloud.
The words clear to those within its *****,
"The forest is not yours to claim
For they are who raised me well
And if you think you can take them from me
You'll drag me down to hell."

And so the fight went on for as long as the moon stood tall,
Yet morning still came and the sun rose once more.
The forest felt safe and the blizzard had passed.
And yet the sight of the tree beckoned mourning,
From all the generations who lived and died with him.
Perhaps he simply couldn't suffer the pain any longer.
The cherry blossom wilts.