Let Me relieve your pain, let you hear My call.

Hoping for the trees to deliever My message, to let you hear it all." She then let Her hands fall to Her sides, sky already becoming grey, already forgeting Her poem, yet the trees try to sing it as well as She did. Her voice was light, the trees made it dark, Her poem was hope, the trees made it the ocean, what a troubled thought. She can hear it all, but won't do a thing, She is Her, and the trees are all, Mori is him, and they are nothing, yet.