What for we are living

You know why, birds go insane
they can't keep, with all this pain.
World turns up, and goes around
It's all evolving, just listen. . .. . .
the sound.
So stand straight, and point your ears
run around, for smell of fears.
It's no hard to find it though
straight on trees, in branches go.
Green, yellow and red leaves
hide the secret of what seams
to be the problem, and the cause
there's no time there, all is froze.
But yet, there is a little path,
on which the silence, easy sat.
At the end, there lies a field,
Birds there dying, birds lying killed.
In all that chaos, rules the fate
for those who don't reconsider
now maybe, it is too late.