The Acacia Tree Is Not Silent

It's not an ordinary story It's the story of sorrow The acacia tree stood alone in pain No single tree in the vicinity Not even grass grew nearby Only the hot desert sand Kept blowing away his tears At night, slapping him with cold hands Piercing him with tiny bullets of sand The acacia tree has seen so many tears Ooze from his barren skin Only to be licked dry by the evil ants That waited in his lap Offering no consolation Preying on his loneliness Alone in the dark He stood with the desert A silhouette of life A monument of time Covered in thick scales of pain Years of loneliness, tears and sorrow After witnessing the genocide Of his own kind Men with axes Mowing down his friends His family and all of his kind Leaving him behind To bear the pain Finally Blowing out a huge hole In his ailing heart Apparently in a show of strength A young man picked up his axe And made a big cut Inside his chest It's the story of years and years Of deforestation A single generation of human beings Clearing away his blood (sap)line In a matter of days Wiping away his father, mother and children Thousands of years of grooming, breeding and caring Destroyed in a heart beat He still weeps today For his long lost tribal land His piece of paradise Wiped away by savages It's true Trees have a heart A long memory And a short piece of advice You reap what you sow Mankind will have their day in the court of justice For all the years of havoc From Amazon to Sahara All the deaths (trees) Are on their hands You have sap (blood)in your hands ©