Whispers Through Ashes

In the heart of burning skies,
Where trees weep embers, not leaves,
The koalas cling to the branches of ghosts,
Their world scorched by a breathless breeze.

Flames crackle like forgotten cries,
Yet through the smoke, they hold their ground.
Soft paws tread on embers bright,
Survivors in a world unbound.

Among the ashes, hope still blooms,
A forest whispers of what once stood.
The koalas rise from fire’s tomb,
Guardians of this fragile wood.

In every charred and broken tree,
A memory lives, a life reborn.
Through fire’s rage and silent plea,
They teach us how to weather storms.