Dear soil, You remember, don't you? You remember that man coming with his Axe, a meaningless smile on face. He hacked and chopped me off, without a single tear. It was he who played under my shade, he who swung my branches, he who had hugged me.. We have carried his childhood memories. His childhood is imprinted on me, everywhere. His art is etched upon my trunk, the rope of his swing still clinched to my branch, one of his balls still sleeps in the hollow of my trunk, singing the songs of his past. I can still feel his touch, full of love. I can still hear his careless laughter. I have treasured the child in him. I have besieged his greatest treasure. His childhood, which he would never get back. Yet today he comes, to watch me die, and doesn't even flinch. All I gave him was love, but never thought that he would change so much. The knife of those echoes of memories pierced so hard, it hurts so much, that I don't even wish to live. These humans are so strange. They are once the zephyr of unconditional love, and then they transform, transform into nothingness, transform into something unexplainable. Now I lie in the scorching sun. Once it felt warm and soothing, today it is a step towards death. The sky weeps today. Maybe for me, I don't know. But I feel good. My roots are choking. They crave for water. But oh! Soil. They are separated from you. My love, you have always been with me. I thank you for that. "From birth to death, thou shall be with me. In thy palms shall be my last breath. I shall be honoured to sleep in thine palms, thou who hast given me everything. These words shall burry with me, and lie forever and forever in thy treasures." And now I will wither, choke, burn, throttle and soon sleep, sleep forever. I wait for my end to come, so that I get the pleasures of your love. Wait for me. I am coming. Soon. Soon.