A Tale Of The Quiet Survivors

Happy times were those,

When blessed were our masses,

With resources in abundance,

Ensuring a well-defined existence,

With passing yellow summers and winters white,

Our homes began to diminish little by little,

But, we were far from assuming,

That our future could be turning brittle,

That fate arrived sooner than we could fathom,

As the monster called exploitation,

Began to pose a threat to our kingdom,

Gone were our homes in large chunks,

And gone were our brothers and sisters, some dragged and some carried in large trunks,

Hunted were we,

Till a time came where you could see,

That we had become a only a few,

And some of you had an awakening,

To defend us from the dangers that were lurking,

Those of us who survived,

Were taken into protection,

You rebuilt our homes, although different from the ones in our memories,

And instead of home, you call them "sanctuaries",

With orange Autumns and Springs green,

Our numbers began to increase,

As provided were resources, abundant and pristine,

And once again, we could live life in ease,

Our existence still continues to be challenged,

For we are called "endangered",

And with our surroundings under supervision,

We miss our homes, which were once free from all predation,

But, through times of strife,

We continued to thrive,

And even though our lives are still at stake,

We will survive.