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In the heart of the forest, where the ancient trees stand tall
Lies a world untouched by time, where nature’s whispers call
Tribal people live in harmony, with the land and sky so wide
Their spirits intertwined with earth, in whom they do confide

Yet shadows creep upon the land, with axes sharp and bright
Logging ventures, bold and fierce, that cut through day and night
They fell the sacred trees that stand, with roots so deep and strong
Disrupting rhythms of the wild, where ancient songs belong

The elders speak of wisdom, passed down through countless years
Of rituals and traditions, now met with silent tears
For the tribes they see the scars, where once the forests grew
The rivers tainted, skies now grey, where once the skies were blue

Machines move upon their land, in search for mineral and gold
Mining companies, illegal and violent, murdering the young and old
They dig into the fertile earth, with drills that roar and grind
Dividing the whole forest, for sure they must be blind

The elders speak of wisdom, passed down through countless years
Of rituals and traditions, now met with silent fears
The waters once so pure and clear, now poisoned by the waste
Of chemicals and heavy metals, discarded in their haste

A light shines on the horizon, a force both bright and cold
Technology, with its promises, of futures bought and sold
It creeps into the sacred lands, with wires and screens aglow
Unsettling minds and hearts, where only peace should flow

For the children gaze at glowing screens, their minds adrift in haze
Forgetting songs of ancestors, lost in a digital maze
Their dreams so vivid and mind so clear, now distracted by the light
Forgetting their ancestral place now frightened by the night 

The elders speak of wisdom, passed down through countless years
Of rituals and traditions, now met with blocked ears
The hearts so pure and clear now open to the world
We have lost our children is what the elders yell

The sacred groves where spirits dwell, now echo with the hum
Of trucks, dynamite, and electricity where once the drums would drum
The hunters paths are overgrown, the fields no longer sown
For machines and technology brings a change, a world they’ve never known

The stars that guided nightly walks, now dimmed by modern lights
The sounds of the forest, replaced by endless fights

Children of the earth, now scattered far and wide
Their homes turned into memories, their spirits forced to hide
The drumbeats of their heritage now echo in the past
As modern dreams of progress, on fragile hopes are cast

Yet in the eyes of elders, a fire still remains
A longing for the forests, and freedom from these chains
For though the land is taken, their spirit never dies
In every heart displaced, a piece of their homeland lies

So let us hear the whispers, and honour what we and they have lost
For in the tales of tribals, we learn the human cost
May we strive for justice, and heal the wounds we’ve made
To give back to the displaced, the peace and land for which they’ve prayed

Yet in the midst of all this change, a spark of hope remains
For some still hold the ancient ways, despite the modern chains
They gather round the fire's glow, and tell the tales of old
Of how the earth and sky and sea are worth far more than gold

So let us heed the lessons, from those who know the land
And find a way to balance, to lend a helping hand
For humans can coexist, within nature’s gentle grace

If only we remember to honour every human in every place.
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