The tranquility of the falling timber
Left the old man oh so bitter
He grabbed his cane and began to shout
But the men simply would not get out
He fell to his knees and began to cry
For the beauty of his forest home was beginning to die
To a group of men who solely fight
For a purpose of self-delight
They laughed at the old man
Laying speechless near his home
“Go on make me leave Grandpa, what exactly do you own?
Oh that’s right, we bought this land, where you seem to live
So get out, or we’ll make your message big!”
The words came like bullets
To a man solely bare
Or a man left on ice
With nothing but his hair
With eyes wide, mouth open
He got up to go home, but turned around and faced the men
Who were destroying his home
“It is not the beauty of men
Who seek out peace
But those who live it
Through the violence and schemes
You take all that I love
And you leave here unharmed
But you have hurt me
So very hard”

Many years later
As they began to die
They stood near the gates
In the pearly lights
They were let in
And in the biggest chair
Sat the old man
Righteous and fair

Tears fell from their eyes
As they begged him to stay
But he smiled and looked at them
And spoke in a simple way
“You who has destroyed my home once
Won’t have a chance twice
But the beauty of heaven
Is ten times as nice”
And for that they were sent to hell
To endure an eternity in pain
For empathy was never theirs
Money was their game