It couldn't know that it was the last living thing on Earth as the rain lashed down on it. It couldn't know that no more of it's kind or any other populated the once fecund planet. It couldn't know.
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It couldn't know about the catastrophic effect that mankind had had on the flora that had once made the Earth a jewel in the cosmos.
The rains that held more acid than water, the herbicides that collected in the air and the soil, the pesticides and plagues had all left it untouched.
Now, alone on a landscape barren of everything including decay, the last living thing on Earth stood stoic amid the epiphany lightning and symphony thunder - as it had for centuries, perhaps millenia. It couldn't know.
It couldn't know, this last living thing, that the stroke of static that severed it's trunk just above the base held no malice. It couldn't know as it began to teeter over, that it's rings, now revealed, could have told its age if there were any left to decode them.
It couldn't know as the last few inches of wood gave way and gravity held it like a rapacious lover eager for the embrace that it was about put the last unanswered question to bed.
As the last tree fell and landed silent on the ground philosophy finally got an answer it could hold. Of course there was no philosophy anymore. And of course it couldn't know.
But would I be a good Messiah with my low self-esteem? / If I don't believe in myself would that be blasphemy? - The Bloodhound Gang Hell Yeah