AnonymousManiac

I am the light of dusk. Dusk does not know light And light does not know dusk, Yet they travel hand in hand. Light covers dusk and dusk covers us. They are the warriors of a constant war: The war of strangers.

It's the dead of winter the cold wind blows. The trees look somber, no green there grows. A single leaf sits perched alone, No one around but on the ground. It fights the wind to stay aloft. But no leaf will ever be strong enough to survive the night. Wind picks up one last time. And plucks the leaf from its branch. The leaf will die not from fright but instead it dies from lone. You see my child, nature's just as prone to giving up as you or I. And the only way to survive Is not by your strength alone but to build a community of friends on whom you can depend. For leaves in autumn have a better chance than