Blame

Who is to blame for the cruelty of humanity?

Somewhere in the woods,

On a dreary night,

At the dreariest hour,

Diana stood on a stump,

Her hair loose;

Pale as flour. 

The pine surrounding her,

In its ominous moans,

Sang to her in their dark,

Terribly ominous,

And far deep,

Yet calming tones.

"Hark!"

They begin to shout.

"Cease, must it be! 

We still stand,

But only for this land,

and not for your false harmony!"

And there Diana stood,

Unbothered by it all.

She had heard their plea,

And answered their call.

If not them,

Then who shall fall?

"Humanity! 

Dreadful!

Just to speak it is a shame!

There is not us,

Or our mother, Diana,

To blame!

It is them!

They have filthied us,

Drenched us in their rotten nature!

There is nothing natural about this,

Nothing good in this danger!

We have shouted and burned,

Screamed and churned,

Unheard yet spoken,

Awake and awoken,

But they smolder us,

And break us broken!

We are brothers in roots,

But enemies in fire.

If they should cut us down,

Then they will do as they desire!

We cannot flee.

We cannot hide,

So we learn to live above them,

And stay on their good side.

Even that is not enough,

Or so it would frightfully seem,

And we are planted in our graves,

Our freedom is but a dream.

They kill us for themselves,

Never for us or Diana,

Or the ancients of Muir Woods,

Or the flowers of Viana.

We are exhausted from being tortured and forgotten,

And our branches are now sulking,

Dying and infested with human maggots; rotten.

Go on, Diana.

What could you say for them?

If they are the cause of our deaths,

What do you say then?"

"You and I,

We are the same,

But there is no doubt,

That we are to blame."

Author's Note

I haven't written a poem in a while, so I thought I would. What do you think?