Thank you for supporting me and reading my story, everyone! I just want to inform you that this story is participating in a fan fiction writing contest, and I hope that you can go to that website and vote for my story if you like it! Your support will be greatly appreciated and this is the first time I'm joining any fiction writing contest so it will be just for fun! Please go to inkitt .com [slash]stories[slash]42316 if you are interested.
Also, here is the complete poem The Tree in the story. This is also part of my work.
The Tree
The summer was coming, dancing enthusiastically.
And in a green meadow were two flowering trees.
Bathed in sunshine and showered in the rain,
The trees grew together without even meeting.
Storms made them turn, encountering accidentally,
And their branches tangled together in strong breeze.
When the morning sun rose and eased the pain,
The trees grew together and started flourishing.
The autumn was coming, singing songs delightedly,
And in the green meadow were four abundant trees.
Days after days farmers were collecting their grain,
The trees grew together, their ripe fruits dropping.
Their seeds rested in the soil, sleeping soundly,
And in the next spring they would grow with ease.
But the winter would come with his self-centred vain,
The trees grew together, started their preparing.
The spring was coming, waking and smiling joyfully,
And in a green meadow were four blooming trees.
In their shadows were the seeds ready and fain,
The trees grew together, their children sprouting.
The small trees were beaming, thriving vigorously,
And the four trees protected them from the disease.
Dark clouds were gathering and they loved to feign.
The trees grew together ere the tempest was raging.
The storm was howling, snarling and crying furiously,
And in the dark meadow were several small trees.
One tree drained nutrition from another one's vein,
The trees grew together and a young life was dying.
The clouds were whispering, darkening rapidly,
And the blood-red gale made the trees wheeze.
One burst of wind broke the small trunk in twain,
The trees grew together, sadly they were mourning.
The winter was coming, sighing and snowing heavily,
And in the white meadow were four living trees.
They stretched out their arms under the mighty strain,
The trees grew together, fighting and protecting.
But the wind was so strong and mighty, blowing madly,
And the small trees could not survive the tease.
Two little trees faced it and were brutally slain.
The trees grew together, their children not breathing.
The tree with a broken heart fought back desperately,
And his branches were torn, he was going to freeze.
With the last drop of his blood painting a red stain,
The tree died in the battle, his body still standing.
The spring was coming, waking and smiling joyfully,
And in the green meadow were four standing trees.
The old, dead tree's silent hope would still remain,
The buds on his branches were opening and smiling.
Years after years, time flies impatiently and quickly,
And in the colourful meadow were three changing trees.
Leaves grew on the dead tree's feet again and again,
While the healthy perfect trees couldn't help withering.
The summer was coming, dancing enthusiastically.
And in a green meadow were many flowering trees.
They sang hymns to the dead trees in the pouring rain,
The trees grew together, what a wonderful happy ending.
THANK YOU!