Forests

Pillars of timeless essence,
pristine pines that stand so stately,
facades imbued of serenity,
myths of purity always engendered,
outward presumptions
assumed of prevailing continuity
in its long black fingers
between the trees,
inspiring dreams of even richer tranquility.

But in its darkness are secret layers
where sunlight doesn't touch,
for there the termites thrive,
diseases spreads in its silent stealth,
paradise's hope first imagined,
dies in the shade's truth,
extinguishing anticipation's flame.