In a dream of old

Like a fossil tree, some stand.
Fated to live within a raging fire.
No more than gatekeepers
of the void.
And wondering what to do
with the rest of life.
But among the flames,
there are some who
behold the moon.
And echo the impermanence
of all things.
I think I will join them
and see the beauty in
their life and death.

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