The Destruction of My Home

It was a quiet, peaceful morning in the vast meadow. I could hear the thump of hooves as other deer grazed in the valley below, but across the sea of grass, a sight I feared, two burly men slowly neared. I dashed for the woods hoping my herd would do the same, for the men, I could see, quickly came. Like cracks of lightning, their gunshots fired. The safety of the forest, I really desired. As quickly as it came, the mayhem subsided. Where I was to go was still undecided. I moved through the forest with plenty of caution, trying to ignore my shattering exhaustion. Suddenly I found the scent of something burning. My brief moment of peace was rapidly turning. As I got closer to the source of the smell, I saw that the men were to blame for this tragedy that was soon to befell. Their campsite was set ablaze, for they left their fire going. Now all their belongings were eaten by the fire without them actually knowing. The flames quickly spread to the trees overhead. If I didn’t leave soon, in no time I’d be dead. I swiftly ran from the site, as the billowing smoke began to block the sunlight. Everywhere I looked, there were trees on fire. To escape this inferno is what I aspire. I finally made it to the safety of the lake, wondering how much more trauma I’d be able to take. I sat there watching my home being destroyed. Leaving my abode, I had always tried to avoid. The furious fire blazed for hours to come. I saw the effect of the fire, and it was gruesome. The pain of the upshot was an arrow in my side. None of these animals should have ever died. I was so tired I could have slept for a year. If I could cry, I would have already shed a tear. Oh the tragedy! Oh the despair! How I wish mankind would learn to use fire a little with more care.