The Sound of Trees in the Deep Sea

What a name destined to be remembered in ashes, Like fire destined to devour the remnants of the old order. Each cluster of orange dances in darkness and ruins, They are all cries of resurrection from the ashes. Burning the past and shackles, And gradually ascended into the feathers of the Phoenix Nirvana. Waiting for the next time the wind blows, The sparks that will start a prairie fire will spread to the vaster land.