Its end began long before we came to meet. It could be said it was born to die, perfectly sacrificial in its purpose. A decade of wild living prepared it for its end though while it grew and spread its branches into the world a careful master kept a close watch. In seasons of its life it recalled grieving its masters correction. It didn't feel like love at the time.
It had grown beyond its cone too quickly at points along its frame. Sources of pride, sticking out, moving into the world. The pride called for pruning from the master, for he had plans that called for orderliness. Organic organs shaped for a purpose beyond the form that contained them.
Its final morning in the field initiated the beginning of its end. Cut down at the base as swiftly as its life had been long it glimpsed a reflection of its fate in the site of fellow fallen brothers and the boots of the master. Why oh Why? I'm Sorry! Please correct me, prune me, but not this! Its soundless cries pierced to the meristems of those that lay beside it. Shivering, lying in the snow, exiled from the land that had been its foundation, its teacher, its home.
The wound that marked its destruction oozed as it lay and with it dread poured in just as quickly as life was sapped out.
As life flowed from its mortal wound it though about its brothers. How it pained it to know that they suffered the same fate. It would have doubled its pain if it meant its brothers could stand again. As pain subsided into the final slumber of death it dreamed the fulfillment of the hope it had for its brothers. In its dream they rose from the ground, standing again, side by side, their height reaching toward the heavens.
And all was dark…
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