Butterflies play in miniature
forests am I'mid o I'm ofgiant footsteps,
engulfed by the breeze
that is as faint as a fading promise
while on a tour to bid us farewell.
The needles of a distant conifer,
whisper among their acquaintances
as fresh dew glisten on vibrant
blades of grass while collecting
and sluggishly dripping to the
dark soil below.
A sea of gray hover at a
grueling pace while surrounded
by patches of blue. Fractured
streams of light, struggle to
break through while searching
for freedom.
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