Tell me, when your eyes happen to open in the night.
And you begin to lose sleep.
Lost in a single thought.
Mind unclouded by the daily noise.
Covered by your blankets.
A place and time where anything is possible.
What is it that you pray for?
The man though an agent of annihilation
Cannot help but feel ripple of sentiment at his core
For the long standing woodland before him
He reluctantly chops away for what should be
A quick end to a fresh start
But the possibility of what was already a probability
A false hope to a dead end perhaps
Bonded to an illusion of a memory long past
That was his favorite shade of green
And all it took
Was a misplaced and unintended spark
To ignite the fire of an unrestrainable reaction.