The leaves of the forgotten give out their last rustling cries and their last scent of remembrance to all the land below. I feel an honor to have captured some of this tribute from them so that their short lives would not be soon forgotten. After pushing through the lands of darkness, the haunting spirits, the murder-hinting trees, and the fire glowing lights of this playground of fears, I see the salvation of the other beings like me all gathering to their grounds to be lifted away into the day. All fears are left behind in that vast, dark chamber of my mind. I know they will return when another scene like this emerges, but for now I gaze up into the slowly bluing sky and listen to the short whispers of the humans around me, letting the wind take one last burst at me, as I wait to be lifted off into the day.
prev chapter
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Subscribe
Flag Writing
