The world burns in a blaze of colors.
Crimson and orange and gold
Flames engulfing the trees,
Tongues of fire licking the sky.

Flaming leaves carried away with a breeze
And blown out like candles caught
In a burst of wind. Where does fire go
When it dies and leaves nothing behind?

Ashen and bare, all that remains of the tree
With gothic branches that rise toward the heavens,
Set ablaze and burned to the ground
Until it is rebuilt and burned once again.

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