Our Purpose FulfilledRiddles are little poems or phrases that pose a question that needs answering. Riddles frequently rhyme, but this is not a requirement.
My brothers and I stand out on a hill,
Our gaze looks far over the land;
We don't have a way to go where we will;
While we live, we must stay where we stand.
Some cousins can thrive beside a clear stream;
They grow old there and scatter their seed.
For us to be so is naught but a dream;
We exist to be killed for a need.
Many were taken, their space now but sod;
Those most shapely were first sacrificed,
Their deaths offered up to an old pagan god,
Though some say that they honor Christ.
We live for a while, in a house or a hall;
But too soon, then, we wither and fall.
Our purpose fulfilled, we're soon cast away;
Can you guess what we were in our day?
AnswerTrees on a Christmas tree farm.
They are planted to grow and then cut down to be used as Christmas trees, after which they become trash or, perhaps, mulch.
Evergreens were once used in pagan ceremonies near the winter solstice.
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