the name in the bark

Why do you keep on violating this landscape? I have trusted these paths for so long, but you: hack away a shortcut, erode all that's fair 'till life here is barren, loathsome at best. What owner of a soul may trust you, if twigs are snapped merely for your amusement? Look, I have planted these trees; they were here before you. Yet you carve their skins, leave marks of your presence, or do you want to be the tree? I had other ways to mold your remembrance you know - outside the grasp of time; now you are just an oozing wound in the bark: you have your due paid in full.