When it seems failure has burned off all my leaves,

When disappointment has razed my roots to nigh oblivion,

And I am smoldering in my own regret,

I will not be buried.

I may sink beneath the Earth,

The soil may creep up and swallow me for a moment,

but I shall return.

My branches will break the ground once again.

And I will take my place

perhaps in silence at first.

Yet there will come a day, when the sky 

will shoo the clouds apart to usher my return.

My leaves will once again drink the sunlight.

And many will see me standing

rising in regal defiance.

They will marvel

as the light asks my permission to kiss the ground,

unable to imagine a day

when the flames tried to make me but a memory.