There's a tree on a hill I know of
It's big and strong, surely an oak
It sits alone on that hill because of the wind
There's a terrible wind which blows so hard it's torn all other trees away
But the lonely oak stays and subjects it's self to the torment for the breeze
You see there's times when the wind becomes a gentle breeze that strokes the oaks leaves
It gives the oak life, hope, and happiness
But only for a moment then once again this breeze becomes that terrible wind
It rips leaves and limbs off the oak but the oak refuses to leave and thinks only of the breeze
It's gentle touch on its rough surface, cooling the scars it caused
There's a tree on a hill I know of
It's hurt but still able, barely an oak
Sometimes it's broken branches and torn leaves are blown where woodsmen can see
These woodsmen know the oak is hurt so they try to move it 
They want it moved somewhere safe were the wind could no longer harm it
The oak however did not want to move, it wanted to stay with the wind
It threw branches, acorns, and leaves at the men
Its only thought is of the breeze and how it hopes the breeze will be back soon
Finally the woodsmen give up their attempt at saving it and leave the oak to its fate
There's a tree on a hill I know of
It's broken and battered, no longer an oak.