Once upon a time,
I've seen another crime.
The weapon he used was vine,
And it was deadly as mine.

To the forest he ran,
As fast as he can.
Didn't mind the strong weather,
As if it was as light as feather.

Thunder roaring,
Like what tigers do.
Rain pouring, never ending.
Like the cries I do.

And now he saw this tree,
He cut it without any fee.
He murdered not just the tree,
But also the soul in me.

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