She reached for her dagger,

Soon the tree will be cut down here.

She thought about sitting on the base of the tree -

watching the sun rays peered through leaves' density.

She nodded, she kept one hand on shoulder,

She sensed a good smell of flower.

She could feel worry in her eyes -

for years, her earning depended on selling wood

still disoriented from her basic thought, she stood.

One thing she was sure of: she had to keep moving -

She started cutting down the branches, collecting them in a little pile -

"Oh..." She suddenly felt very small in the shadow of tree-

"Uh, am I killing the tree?" She was not hassle free.

"Before I kill you, let mist hide you," she prayed.

Doubtful but it worked,

There was a chance, she thought, just the slimmest chance to save the tree from complete fallen -

A painful weirdness struck her brain.

The point of dagger fell down from its handle,

She watched it crumble,

And it was the only way she saved the tree from its disaster.

She wondered if she became crazy,

could she take a healthy breath really?