THE LAST TREE
I was born in a forest that once sang.Dawn would rise through the mist, birds would spill into the sky like verses of a poem, and rain would dance upon our leaves. The earth was gentle then, breathing softly, nurturing quietly. I grew among thousands, maybe millions, of my kind. Together, we stitched shade into the sunlight and turned dust into life.But then you came, the builders of walls, the dreamers of glass and steel. You called it progress. I called it a slow dying.You carved roads throug
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