Monster of greed

Longs to be seen

Ransacks the spark

It leaves its mark.

 

The mourning wind blows

Taking what it must.

Night ends, day begins

Debris of the settling dust

 

All the gold is gone

What's left? Scars

Infected with its spawn

Memories are iron bars

 

A speck of ember

A breeze so hazy

Days are a blur

Fading slowly

 

A seed of green

It grows again

Despite the unseen

To now, from then

 

Stretching from the tree

This encourages more

Its seeds spreading

Hope at the forest's core.