Beneath the sun, on windswept sand,
A lone tree stood, a weathered hand
Reaching towards the boundless sky,
Its gnarled bark whispered, "Passersby,
A tale I hold, etched deep within,
Of pride and loss, and where they spin
A tangled web, of sorrow's thread,
A lesson learned, with tears unshed.
Once, tall I stood, with leaves of green,
A canopy, a vibrant scene.
My roots embraced the fertile ground,
My branches, whispers, softly crowned.
But pride took root, a creeping vine,
It choked my heart, a poisoned wine.
I scorned the flowers, frail and low,
Their fragrance faint, their petals slow.
I yearned for storms, to twist and sway,
To stand aloof, in grand display.
The sun my crown, the clouds my peers,
No equal sought, through passing years.
Then came the night, a howling beast,
With winds that ripped and tore a feast.
My branches snapped, my leaves aflame,
My pride devoured, whispered shame.
Now, shattered bark and branches lie,
A broken shell against the sky.
The flowers bloom, unbowed and strong,
Their gentle song, a mournful song.
So learn from me, before it's late,
For pride's a serpent, sealed in fate.
Embrace the small, the kind, the true,
In humble soil, compassion grew.
Let roots of love and kindness bind,
And in that strength, true shelter find.
For only then, beneath the sun,
Will life unfold, as one."
The wind it sighed, the sand it shifted,
The moral whispered, never gifted.
But in the heart, a seed was sown,
A lesson learned, when pride flown.
Thank you, friend!
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