Leaf tips drip dew of the mornings hue whilst their trees release a secret into the breeze, as a siren would lure you to her depths your nature leads me home. An exhale of relief as fingers trace the contours that lay beneath tough skin, though pale and bruised as once was internal. Melancholy has ceased in a rainforest scene; a lush foliage of greens thrive without constraint, just nurture. Your canopy is of a higher being who shades violent rays from penetrating between any gap or space as we have conversation about the finer things.