The Hunter

He found me in the darkest part of the forest
He was a hunter
Quiet, stealthy, tactical.
I heard him coming,
saw his movements from a distance and stood steady as a willow
hoping he would hide in my shade.
But instead, took part of me and left.
He drank from my stream, slept in my grass,
he intertwined himself in my roots
leaving behind nothing but a space just for him.
But the wind blew him away - swiftly quietly.
The rain will wash away the remains of him.
The sun will burn the memories to ashes.
He will no longer exist but for the fossil he made out of my heart.
Where will you go when the soil runs dry?
Where will you hide from the sun when all the trees are dead?
After you have taken everything the forest offers,
What will you do then?
When the roots that once held you crack
When the rain stops coming
And the grass where you once slept fades to dirt
Will you wish then that you had stayed?
Will you realize then that you can never go back.

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