Ashes

I watch as the wind carries the ashes of what once was and can never be again. The terror, the cynicism, the pain have all burned away. In it's place is a seed, small and scared, unsure of what it is to become, hoping the rain and sun can find it through the debris. Growing is an arduous battle when all that surrounds are charred remains. Destroyed but not forgotten, the lifeless remnants still scream of the evil that had taken place. What is now the helpless seed was once the giver of destruction, taught by some of the earth's most sinful. Can something so devastating shed everything it once was and sprout roots for a better way? Should it be allowed? The wind carries the ashes of what is to never be again and in the ground waits a seed now filled with guilt, shame, and sorrow.