Just some nature inspired prose.

I step outside and take a deep breath.

I notice petals falling and they're swept away.

Oh, how this world is beautiful in such decay.

My lungs want to breathe with a feverish appetite. I am unable to swallow with so much beauty in sight. My limbs grow taller as the wind tickles the insides of my fingers. I could fly and feel infinite, if it weren't for the stones tied to my feet.

I'm lying on grass that is made up of magic colors.

It's more meaningful than the man-made machines making mass material.

Maybe. It might be.

I'm wearing a paper crown. I'm the ruler of my world.

But I cannot capture this landscape view as it sows itself into my gown.

I really could eat this poetry and still not be full. I'm thinking too much - then I feel the pull.

This tree is too beautiful to pass up the moment.

But I'm counting down the ticks of the clock, and time is (money) of the essence.

The day is one thousand horses storming through a field.

And I am just a warrior fighting without a shield.