The Undergrowth

Dear Sir,flowers popping up from the gaps in the undergrowth . The wind sweeps through the forest . He still maintains that strange smile even though he has changed the subject .Now he talks about people who speaks grandiose and unnatural because he is not from the same world as him. In the dim night he goes out with the half moon...while the silent sea in the twilight of life which is almost invisible starts to play..

One hears his own voice in a long empty echo far away maybe partially thrown from his nightmare. when the sky is covered in mist of the northern hemisphere where those flying swallows unite in the gray purple of the night when it's finished ..saving the story and invites him to sleep immediately before chasing the empty shadow of a mumbling sorrow story.

" Ah , good morning dear"He picked up some small stones and threw them one by one into the muddy pool. There were lots of dry twigs and leaves falling onto its surface. He stood close beside her and joined in to wa
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