Unified fragility, tree’s in Rockies become the next resource on the list;
Huddled warm, warning “Don’t look at me! I am not your next pay-check!”
Investment: money made out of sacrifice.
Consume: call out to desire.
Technology: where four wheels grow stronger
So they can shamble over more shale.
Do you not hear the word “no”?
Earth is under those tires, comforting the deepest of trees within.
Roots receive massage from six-foot rubber feet, dragging groves upon this mountain back.
Growls of protection in high altitude wind, and you should not be here.
Forget your pay-check, forestry is not a play object.
“I object, I object, I said no to your blades and your tire trail!”
Invest, consume, technology, you regain the grips on your wits and you drive through siren screams.
Maybe if you slowed down you would hear Her fade from underneath your rotating beams.
As you slip, on shale,
Earth takes back herself by the seams, which you stole, a few resources ago.
“I’ve lost control.” The man in the skidder realises suddenly.
How does it feel to be so unlucky? To lose those tires on those muddy feet?
You glide down the steepest mountain of greed,
crash, and no nature weeps.
Tree's just grow. Glowing, huddled with community, no saws to bloody the soil.
Mother Nature, she warns “You’re expendable to me.”
Wilderness will always surcease imbalance.
Your machines may have technology, but tree's ultimately have roots.
And if you want to see who will win in a battle between the two,
eventually, I guarantee it won’t be you.
Dedicated interiorly to the logging industry.