I am an unhealthy tree

Aged and outdated

Strong roots, dying color

No room for others, not even bees

Rooting others is the ultimate task

Time a factor, weakness the belated

Stability, a state of mind

Shaky forest, inevitable grind

To see my own trees ailing and feeble

Devours within, a thousand hungry beetles

Rejuvenation no more

Vitality, an undeniable lore

Standing tall, gargantuan they are, a noble legacy

A feeling of sense, a mandatory necessity