Reaping

Sometimes when you destroy a thing, its beauty is gone. But its yearning lives on.

You knew then
You know now

Destroying a beautiful thing
Scars the landscape
Changes the world
Forever

I wanted to rip it out at the roots
So it could never grow back again
You said to me
Ever present now echoing forever more

With a fury and a scythe
What had bloomed was now gone
You spared no atrocity

Yet the roots were ancient and deep

They long to feel sunlight
To feel the rain upon their leaves
Leaves that exist no more
Just decomposing compost

Buried underground
Like a tomb beneath the surface
Roots live on
But do not grow

And the world continues
To stroll above
On the now barren land