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ae Oct 20
let the vast seas be
    where our heavy hearts could
    wonder
because the distance between us
    are never empty spaces;
think of it as wider plains to grow,
    a place for stronger souls

not mind the waves that crash onto us
    for we will be looking at the same
    sky
nor the clocks that tick at different
    times
    for we will be meeting half way
    through
ae Jun 17
ae   Poems  
Published 0   Drafts 1

ae 1m
Seasons
The cold wind danced gracefully,
swirling through the bareness of its branches.
Death came marching in, he seems
but no, he was not.
It was the opposite.
Its chills turned into warm breeze.
It felt like a fresh start.
Leaves start growing,
everything was in bloom.
The feeling was new,
or rather, it was surreal.

The warmth was scorching.
What was once fresh grew dry,
Some still struggle,
some still try.
Perhaps fate was inevitable.
Death has finally arrived.
and alas, it is unquestionably real.
Embraced by death himself,
everything starts falling,
one by one they start clashing into each other.
Was this supposed to come to an end this way?
The cold wind danced gracefully,
swirling through the bareness of its branches.
No, it was not empty.
It was just free,
taking its time to grow.
It was not Death.
It was life.
It was the beginning.
It chills turned into warm breeze.
What was once bare flourished.
Slowly but surely,
It grew.
It learned.
It changed.

The warmth was scorching.
Despite the drought,
It has endured everything through.
It stood still.
It stood strong.
Some held on,
some have let go.

Death has finally arrived.
But no, this is not the end.
Unescapable it may seem,
It will emerge once anew.
Stronger, better,
this time for sure.
Yes, this is not the end.
However many times it falls into ruin  
There's no end.
So, shall we begin?

— The End —