Trees without Birds

"These trees are to breathe all time," demanded our fathers to keep all the village trees alive. What you didn't know about our trees is that they fed on souls. First our elderly watered them with all their days and hours left until they lost their very last, leaning under those long shabby trees. We even buried them nearby those fat trunks so they feed on what was left of their dead flesh; nevertheless, those long trees kept growning longer and with a harder shell yet the more we gave the further they faded. No little birds or nature they would embrace. Unless you are not one of us, you think of them as of unsight. Then we poured those trees our souls. Though we kept a little to us, stashing that little much of soul as thieves but those trees quenched harder and spread longer drier twigs imposing for more souls. Sometimes, we couldn't avoid the everyday-growing twigs. Those timeworn trees bolted shade as dark as a sable night not letting us chant to a sun at morning neither flirt with a lost constellation in a nightful sky. Those trees almost captured everything alive yet still looked more miserable than ever. You roam across the valley in a beautiful sunny day, yet an earthquake rushes through the grounds. You run for your life and in the right time you arrive a certain peak. The earthquake had stopped and you're looking at the ends of our valley; our trees, too long in age and length, lying dead with their long rock-hard thirsty twigs thrusted into our chests as they fell. Yet the surviving trees looked as if they made a thick border around the village as if to imprison us. You are suddenly drawn away to the greener trees on the other greener side and cannot help but wonder. You spot beautiful kids playing by the soft fresh young intact branches. You reach out to see the truth in the clearing of those way shorter trees than ours and study their story. Their people cut off the old trees and these are newly seeded unlike the trees in our fathers' death note, too long and shabby. The villagers who survived the long twigs lived within the thick border of those long trees, giving them more souls.