The Breeze

February 21, 2012
Through the luscious forest flows the breeze
It then carries itself to the snowy mountains
Continuing to the peaceful meadow
Where it makes the fragrant flowers dance with glee

Ten years later, the same breeze flows by again
Only to find a desolate wasteland
The forest is now rotted
The mountains are piles of rubble
The meadow is a field of scattered dirt

The breeze, however, continues on
With a hope that its world will once again be filled with happiness and joy

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