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Poetry & Art

And She Cries…

what is not needed? i ponder beneath the stars above. down below, nothing is significantly better than what nature is. we chose this life. why cling to the imaginary? not nature’s course, you see. the egoistic delusions of grandeur.

i can hear her faint cries like whispers in the wind. she reaches out with immeasurable love to embrace us as we ravage with no end in sight. ancient trees hold infinite wisdom in the world. the universe. they embody life in its purest form. we cannot hear, it is white noise for humanity. we choose, refuse to hear or feel, for it is far too easy to fall into the cycle of oblivion.

 

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by A.M Winchester

INFJ- wounded healer. traveling freelance writer and Integrative Healing Arts Practitioner.

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