I wrote original for this one a while ago, after I finished reading a book called, Where the Red Fern Grows. Very sad book.
Lost in the forest over in the mountains.
In the forest we roam,
Trailing and tracking, we move through the
Trees.
Leaves rustle, and here comes a fight.
Ending at last, I stand there
And realize, I never more shall hear the sweet
Notes that rang pure and clear,
Near the mountains, where the red fern grows.
I don't know where the original went, but this is very similar to it.