Don’t ask me why I’m picking pale petals from this fragile steam sprouting swords. I spoke out loud and said I’m looking for the answers to life, love and death and continued to methodically hand pick my destiny from the dying still life barely standing before me. I felt no pain as the steam’s last stand drew first blood and I watched the ground catch every one of my raspberry virtues, my body shook only because each droplet seemed to shake the earth around me. The vibrations caused reverberations waves of visible colors that oozed from the ground beneath and started to materialize into the form of solid words and expressions. The voice started off in a deep rich wood brown color and sounded grumpy and groggy but I know, no slumber in the lonely depths of dirt could be easy but the seriousness in which the voice talked in had let me know that no life is too hard to live by. My body was completely immobilized by what my ears were hearing, the world was talking to me. Me. Out of all the pure souls on earth I was chosen to hear the answers I’m journeying for. My excitement flew away faster than autumn leaves when the voice turned into a fiery crimson color to ask me why I’m I destroying it. My pled meant nothing as the color turned holy purple to show its wisdom “You don’t need to not search for answers when there are solutions all around you, learn from the fallen stem that refuses to actually fall and be used and abuse by the ones around it”.

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