Wild Flower.

Born out of the tender mist, the heavy winds and the beautiful landscapes.Its intoxicating smell pulls me to it.I can't resist and I don't even try.The land below is what I call mine.But as I reach,the same colors looks different to me.The silence sings and I complain.The quiet moments are lost, I claim.The sun is out but I still feel cold.The rains are tired or that's just what I'm told.

Warm and comforting , the smoke around me is good pretence.It moves around, like it knows me very well.I am not here for I never was.And the dark green leaves are telling me...we promise you that you'll never be.