Does it Make a Sound?

A group of men surrounds me and ties a rope ‘round my throat.  I do not struggle, because there is no point.  I do not shout, no one will hear.  They raise their blade, preparing to cut me down.

Giant machines drive past, and they destroy my brethren as if they were twigs.  I am frozen, rooted to the spot.
I am strong, nothing will move me.  But now, these machines won’t hesitate to harm me.
Now the men swing their weapons, laying blow after blow against my side.  One man says something, but now I am in too much pain to listen.  Slowly, I fall; leaves are thrown into the air as I hit the soft ground.
The men begin mutilating me, cutting off my limbs.  I am half-dead by now, pain no longer exists.  I am loaded onto a machine, with my comrades.  They too, once stood tall, but now are nothing.
We are taken to a large building, full of others like us.  We are treated poorly, tortured.  Eventually, I pass out, unaware of the atrocities that are done to me.

When I wake up, it is dark, yet the is a bright light coming from somewhere behind me.  I can feel strong heat emanating from the same direction.  As others are moved from around me, I roll over so I can see a great fire blazing just a few feet away from me.  I know my fate and decide that there is no longer any hope.
Only flame.
I close my eyes and let the fire engulf me.