I was the one that created,
those murderers that killed my children-
The lush, green trees,
and the blue, wavy waters.
I try to look away,
But I can’t resist watching them,
Get tortured by those puny humans.

I scrutinized in terror,
as I watched them die,
their slow, painful demise.
They used to be,
the lords of the land,
majestic and exalted,
fresh and green.
Their build,
tall and sturdy.

But not any more.

They are forced to fight,
for their dear lives,
but as they fight back,
like a bull battling a lion,
they get slaughtered by their monarchs,
By those puny little pests,
Who give no mercy,
to those giving them lives.

But my anger,
incontrovertible beyond compare.
I will avenge you, my children

I then cried a river of tears,
as I watched in horror,
the torture,
of the apple of my eye.
His surface was,
a radiant blue like the sky,
transparent and clear.
His texture,
smooth like silk.

But not any more.

He is slashed and lashed,
like the slave of a king,
thrown away,
as though there’s no use of him.

But my anger,
incontrovertible beyond compare.
I will avenge you, my child.

I bellow an ear-splitting war cry,
The signal for my army’s charge.
My fiery soldiers,
Smoke their charred cigars,
As they billow ash and debris,
Into the vast atmosphere,
Creating complete darkness,
Destruction awaiting anything in their paths.
They then let out a scream,
Throwing fiery chunks and masses,
Onto their rivals,
Smouldering them.
The apple of my eye,
Joins the fight,
Washing away, those who survived,
And for the finale,
I shake the ground,
With immense power,
Destroying the last of them.
I will avenge you, my children.