Sounds of lumber crack through the forest, from orange strangers above.
The world sitting still, assassinated by the rustling of leaves, from the branches above.
The man sits still, as the wind brushes past him in a light gust blowing above.

Silent marksman stalk prey, from the treeline above.
Once more, the silence shatters, as three blue jays perch on the pine above.
White tails prance into sight, as the man perks from the stand above.

Silence becomes thumping, as the man's heart races.
Breathing becomes thick like fresh concrete.
The man scopes in the long barreled gun.

The pull of the trigger originates from the man above.
He retrieves the deed, death unknown from a stranger above.
Slowly approaching he rests his knee, folds his hands and prays to the Lord above.

Light fades beyond the horizon, as the white, dim light casts from above.
The man seeks shelter, prepares his meal, and says grace to above.
Unaware, imbalance awakens the woods under the stars above.

One branch fades as the predators grow in numbers.
The chain snaps, as food is taken from others tables.
Unseen problems unfold as the balance of nature corrupts.

The man sits still as the sun begins to rise above.
As the cold morning dew fades, the forest sits lifeless to the man above.
Waiting for a sound, one glimmer of life but noting rises above.

Others begin to notice and send help from a greater power above.
Rules must be made to persevere the balance, so a broadcast streams signals above.
“Change, we must have limits! Or we’ll be in deep water, not able to reach above.”

Time passes and flies through the next few seasons.
The population seeks to grow, as life fills the woods once more.
Never again endanger lurks, as nature heals.

In November, lumber cracks, from the orange strangers above.