The howling wind dances in the trees surrounding life in a bitter defeat. Sunken into the ground sits a man. Head bowed. Frozen air wraps around his shoulders as if to claim the life in a death grip. To be defeated. But with just as much grace as the dancing wind, man lifts his face to the stars. It is there in that moment the clattering branches can no longer be heard. For in the crisp sky the man feels something stir from deep within. A hope. No matter the force that rattles against his body, it's attempt to plow over, the man can no longer feel the war raging. For hope can not be defeated.
The thoughts that circle in this pretty head of mine at 3 in the morning!
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