Walking through the peaceful field of flowers,

she stands still a moment,

breathing the refreshing air,

a fence stands two meters away,

with vines wrapping around its ever rotting wood,

Still,

she can not help but remember the days before now,

when she walked through the flowers just blooming,

her world still young.

The cottage that once stood,

gone,

the old tree still growing,

gone,

the world around her that once was,

was Mother Nature’s next victim.

Still,

the mountains still grow old,

the plants still die,

her world collapses.

she dies.

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