As the trees began to sing once again, the snow stoppped falling and the sun has finally shown its disturbing face, they were already back to bed. Rotting, and trying to hear something meant for them.
The silence of the echo was too much to bear, they're eyes breaking and shattering into what we must have known. But in the other somewhere else, Her cries were louder, with the trees mimicking Her laments.
The trees will sing, they will murmur, they will chant the choir believe it or let the truth rot. In the end, it is still the same..
Made only by Danael
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