Deep down in its crimson essence,
way deep into its stone,
something lies, awaits, and lingers,
just as thunder erupts and roars.
Its pulse of life vibrates and totters,
caged in every ring and jewel,
Yearning for its ancient sparks to be
revived, rebirthed, and restored.
Its blooming shade and glowing
edges slowly paling, turning
dimmer,
Lets our vain and boastful finger
hold its leafy and shiny ore.
