Execute your helpless victim:
It can only stand proud
in its gold, leafy shroud.
Hack at its ancient roots:
It only gives you wood,
shelter, beauty, air, and food.
Lop off its limbs:
It only shields the rain.
It sings to you again,
“Living things fill the earth.
Power surges through our veins.
Destroy us, green-filling earth.
In the end, ’twill be thy bane.”