The breeze is running among the leaves,
lifting up the memories of past trees,
every step leaving a shadow in the street.
Deep in the heart of earth,
a thunderous voice erupts and calls,
screams and cries.
the creatures above fly, escape, run.
But those with out wings, without fins,
without ears, without voice,
fall in the deepest dream and rest their soul.
Picking up the pieces of our lives,
the still standing wander by the land,
the still standing cry our loss and bury the past.
The breeze is running among us,
the still standing memories of the past,
every step forward, to never give up.
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