Dead trees, looking once proud and now bent,
Once full of leaves, now stripped and bowed
Their branches bare, their trunks worn and gray a silent testament to time's decay
Once they stood, reaching for the sky.
A home for birds, a shelter for the shy
But now, they're nothing but a shell a haunting reminder of what once was well
Their roots, once deep and strong now cling to life, for not too long
For they, too, will crumble and fall and join the rest, in the forest's thrall
Dead trees, a sight to see a symbol of life, and mortality
A reminder that all things must pass and in death, new life begins at last.
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