The towering gigantic senile pillar,
Comfortably stretches its bony hands,
Enhancing its appearance with blossoms,
It beholds in itself fragments of memory.
Lying by the gnarled bark,
Or chasing truant siblings,
Climbing branches in agile ecstasy,
Such memories surround it.
Alas, your existence cannot be guaranteed,
Brutal humans embark on a quest
To torture and kill your
Seemingly eternal existence.
I peep into the future,
Only to witness old, young and adults,
Carrying oxygen cylinders,
With inhalers attached.
Perhaps I can only pray
That the world comes to its senses.
But is it too late?
Can you ever forgive?