Forlorn freedom

Flitting, flight, forward, 

Dodging suns rays,

Between the leaves.

Hunting, hungering, hunter,

Searching edible prey,

Within its domain.

Boldly, beating, beats,

Sweeps upon its prey,

Severing its tie to life.

Greedily, gorging, gulps,

Almost quelled hunger,

Ready for the next feast.

Aquire, align, assault, 

It all begins again,

With clockwork precision. 

Fly, fret, forlorn, 

Where did the trees go?

Cannot go out in the open.

Destructive, deforestation,  destitution, 

Watch helplessly as prey gets away,

Slow death predicted.

...

Swaths of trees lay dead,

Masacred where they stand.

Birds shrieks, mingled with others,

As majestic trees crash all around, 

While yellow beasts roar, spewing black.

Silently,  within a tree, 

Sits a bird, watching helplessly,

Its prey, teasing on the other side.

A narrow lane of brown expanse,

Might as well have been an ocean.

A single cry escapes its breast,

The only sign of its sorrow.

Death slowly encroaches, 

Accompanied by the hairless ape.

An eye incapable of crying,

Yearns deeply for its luxury.

Heart broken,  the bird takes flight,

To fly within its shrinking island.

Deep down it feels its impending doom,

As another tree cries before its final boom.