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Smoke the only trace
Of its existence
Surging up to be one with the clouds
Swirling shapes that remind of something
That we can’t seem to place
Bringing tears to the eyes
That should have already been there

Embers, once flaring with vitality
Now ash as they gently land on our
Ignorant shoulders

There is no line between

Reaching down without avail
Staring at the ravaged
Yet we can’t
Seem to tell our bodies, tell our legs
To move down the side of our mountain
Lush green
Against the backdrop of red seas and black sand
Hollowed out inside
By none other than ourselves
As the cracks start to appear and we
Inch further up
Forever the onlooker