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the earth shakes and up roots trees that would otherwise stand strong. Terrible winds push those broken limbs from every corner of the earth to the most sane interior, crushing it and chewing into tiny bits of burt umber. The same earth that quakes, wakens the most sorrowful lights that turn on, leaving the room darker than a night with no moon. Reaching the victims could never be harder, unless they drive themselves out of the ashes on bent wings of the lightest materials. Push those decayed leaves out of the way and fly to the highest regions of a sky that is lined with powerless forces and contains the most wonderful of all dreams. |