A very sophisticated and storyful Poem I found on Discord. Insiders will know.
Grass, just plain green and lazily shifting grass that felt cool and damp under the beings cuboid feet. The breeze around the meadow carried a warmth to it like a blanket that cascaded around the being, enveloping him in as sense of calm and comfort. The rustle of leaves broke his concentration, bringing his attention to the nearby woods, mysterious and treacherous but their beauty created adventures of their own. Perhaps that is why the wild rosebush, that greedily swallows the trunk of one of the trees, has thrived and comfortably having surrounded itself in such a simular place to it's self. The being took a breath before looking back. Back to the construct made forever so long ago. It's glass dome fallen to ruin, the pillars once shinning, now moss ridden and crumbling. With nary a firework to ascend and bloom in the heavens with pedals of fire to the pressure plate what had called it forth, the temple of spawn, was indeed worth the beings gaze, as this point was once the gate way from this world to another. Many a being like its self, once traversed at will from the temple, now in silence and decay. The being sighed before stepping back to the temples center. Taking one last look back at the world he knew so long. One final look, before he left, and as the last pedal of a flower falls to winters cold, the world like the flower, withered and died.