Melancholy Faun

Written by: Tammy Armstrong

Wooden paths I seek forlorn,
I miss the smell where I was born.
The coolest air of blossoms bloom 
no longer wait for me to loom.
No canopy to be my roof ~
now ashes scattered under hoof.
I had to leave I couldn't stay,
they took upon themselves that day:
destroying what I miss the most ~
My home,
 now just a charcoal ghost.