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| Perspectives_of_Soul |
The path ends here, but not the dead end we ache for.A glisten on the trees and a crying from within is a display of the very thing we are trying to be void of.But we can tell by what we do not see, the things we cannot hear, that we are heading in the right direction.It is the end of all hope, so we will not turn back since there will be nothing we see back there worth searching for. The wind has stopped as well.The breezes that blew away our footprints do not exist anymore, since the hard earth cannot be imprinted, not even by the weight of the worlds that are on our shoulders. Our steps are only softly heard now, the crisp snapping of twigs are all that reminds us we are stepping at all.Our palms are smokey grey, the light that shines within us, is slowly ebbing away. |
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