All was melted,
Charred, contorted.
All that animated it once -
Untamed forests, beings of the wild.
Murky abyss, it turned
from a sanctuary of a rare kind.

A true tryst it was,
of nature and fervour!
for the Earth.

The bushfire saw no value in those living trophies,
trifles and worthless,
It took them all in bouncing flames, in hostile embrace of physical passion.

Like the charred remnants of dead things on the blackened earth,
Memories hung on as ungracious souvenirs.

Still, the bushfire failed to sway
the obstinate Earth's might to sprout green again,
Naivete' to harbour and love
the very same things that scorched it.

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