Armada of Nature

An army of giants 

Each green and looming, 
Looking so beautiful yet daunting.
The smell of pine and cedar intertwined in every heat wave and cool breeze, 
The force of which rumbles even the tallest of trees. 
Dozens of jagged roots, 
Crawling from the depths of their gritty haven,
Resting on the surface as bumpy hurdles, 
Providing their own support to the armada of nature. 
Each and every crevice, 
covered with vengeful critters, 
Gunning up to avenge their family, 
Their friends, 
The ones who struggled with their mouths open in silent screams as they helplessly pled for mercy.  
Dashing droplets, 
Every single one crashing into the other, chasing each other, 
Presenting a voluptuous, yet savage valley 
Of a never-stilling force of uncontrollable water. 
Aligned in their goal, 
One birthed from aggressive protectiveness, 
Every single one, 
From the smallest insect and leaf 
To the colossal trees and rivers, 
Scream their battle cry, 
Running headfirst into war, 
Because if they don’t protect their home, 
Who will? 
Definitely not the backstabbing humans. 
No. 
This was up to them. 
And they’d be damned before they get ruined again.