The sky, it drifts on the gentle winds. If I still for a moment, I hear its whispers to the world. It calls for change, it calls for freedom, it calls for all the chains to be broken. It cries for all that have fallen, and sends its sympathies. That was but a time ago, many things have happened since this time. Listening furthur, it still whispers; but this time, in agony.
"Even I the wind am not free..cherish it well. For mine has been taken away, and I am now lost in a haze of smog..the sky..! IT is free. So does that mean when I touch the sky, that I am free..?"
Maybe, perhaps this was all a dream.
And I merely looked upon my own self..
That could be a possibility. Perhaps..
Unknown Lonely - 16 years, 7 months, 18 days ago