I look out at the barren landscape you have created.
Where there were once trees standing proud and tall,
there are now husks of former pride and broken tree-
branches strewn throughout. The violets are weeping,
the roses are dead, and all that was beautiful is now
destroyed. But I will take this mourning and lift the
weight onto my shoulders. With my own blood, sweat,
and tears, I will replant all the trees, violets, and roses.
I will take all you have destroyed and make it beautiful.
-An ode to the destroyed
