The visible engraved scars made by an axe, to a once vibrant tree that has become

a lifeless stump
Past its threshold of pain, to any further strikes on its trunk, it has now become
numb
Buried roots trying to resuscitate its inner cells, and vital nutrients up its trunk, it
tries to pump
Re- sprouting in agony, its cries are feeble, it has now become dumb
The damage has already been done, to its sealed wounds it will slowly succumb,
Like heart rot on a conifer trunk, fungi slowly forms a lump,
Decay finally will have a trump,
On the shattered and powerless rump.