There was nothing. Nothing but that which was known to man as snow. It wasn't as simple as people thought. It wasn't just a small flake that came when Heaven's tears turned cold and froze. No...It was much more than that. But what, exactly?
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch...
Step by step... One by one...
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch...
Time was running out for this world. He knew... He knew that things wouldn't be able to change. He knew that things weren't going as well as he had planned. When he was first entered into the world, there was peace and happiness. People trusted each other and talked. They laughed, they breathed, they talked, they didn't cry... Now, most of those emotions were gone. They didn't trust each other. Best friends turned to enemies.
They didn't laugh, they barely breathed, they barely talked, they cried.
Flowing with the gentle caring wind, a blood red scarf fluttered into the forest, colliding with the simple scent of the forest and a Winter's day. Before the scarf was a hooded man wearing a gray trench coat. His hands were in his pockets and his blue jeans carried the snow from the ground from every step, his shoes now buried in the white cotton candy. With every breath, a small cloud had formed from his lightly rose red lips.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch-crunch...
The man stopped and the scarf fell onto his clothed back. There, he stood before a tree. It was the only one in the forest that had remained coated with the wonderful summer green plants. He stood there, looking up at the tree, a small smile on his face. This tree... Why was it's leaves still green when all it's friends had died away?
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch...
Step by step... One by one...
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch...
Time was running out for this world. He knew... He knew that things wouldn't be able to change. He knew that things weren't going as well as he had planned. When he was first entered into the world, there was peace and happiness. People trusted each other and talked. They laughed, they breathed, they talked, they didn't cry... Now, most of those emotions were gone. They didn't trust each other. Best friends turned to enemies.
They didn't laugh, they barely breathed, they barely talked, they cried.
Flowing with the gentle caring wind, a blood red scarf fluttered into the forest, colliding with the simple scent of the forest and a Winter's day. Before the scarf was a hooded man wearing a gray trench coat. His hands were in his pockets and his blue jeans carried the snow from the ground from every step, his shoes now buried in the white cotton candy. With every breath, a small cloud had formed from his lightly rose red lips.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch-crunch...
The man stopped and the scarf fell onto his clothed back. There, he stood before a tree. It was the only one in the forest that had remained coated with the wonderful summer green plants. He stood there, looking up at the tree, a small smile on his face. This tree... Why was it's leaves still green when all it's friends had died away?
