Frost lies on the blackened
Whispers float in the air,
The spirits are all gathered around,
Their presence is everywhere.
Single green shoot in a deadened forest,
Fights for its right to live anew,
The spirits sing their songs around it,
The words they speak are words so true.
"Even in the dead of night,
After all are laid to rest,
Even without the bright moon's light,
After all have left,
Even then, when hope is gone,
Can there be a sign of life,
After all is over and done,
There can be a sign of Right."
The spirit's song of hope rings true,
For green is the color of hope,
And green is that one lonely shoot,
That through winter and ash can cope.
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