The Trees were green.

Before the fire came.

Now only solemn mounds of of ash remain.

Nothing but grey hollow ash. Only black thorns of cinder to be seen.

The fire bled the life and color out.

Before the fire the trees so mighty reigned over the natural, pure world. With soft, protective blankets of leave, and strong, guarding branches so stout.

The trees. The life could not escape the never-ceasing, ever-grasping, horrible claws of flame and death.

Nothing left.

Only ghosts of ash.

Remain