Nature.
A world wonder on its own.
Its beauty being captured by many on a daily basis.
The breathtaking sight of a sunrise or sunset. The smell of blooming roses in a garden of an old lady. How can something so beautiful be so painful? The petals a dark captivating crimson, the thorns drawing a small drop of blood as they touch your flesh. Like love, this flower is bittersweet. The colours of the leaves changing by autumn’s command, merely weeks, maybe even days before drifting away in the wind. Off on an adventure on their own, finding their destination somewhere on the ground. A child skipping through the streets and happily kicking up a pile of leaves, finding joy as they twirl back down.
The sound of snow crunching underneath your boots. Almost like an old man cracking his back as he sits up in bed in the morning, ready to face another day.
Nature.
A world wonder on its own.
So why are we so set on tearing it all down?
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