The Bruised Landscape I ache as a thousand feet pound my now damaged skin I cry as my fellow forest friends get ripped of me mercilessly They torture me cutting and picking at my flesh, Stealing my golden treasure and leaving gaping holes I yearn for the old days when I could rest peacefully away from these heartless monsters When I could live in harmony with all the living creatures that embraced me
By AngĂŠlique PrĂŠau