A gust of wind powered by definition rushes through the unguided trees and catches the dancing golden leaves. Leaves swiftly glide alongside the sheer will of the west winds, winds that rhyme with rhythm and winds that carry an invention written of gold.
The wind continues its journey, rippling along the silk woven river. The river glistened in the ethereal dusk, flattened and smooth as a soft melody, gently catching the falling leaves in a lullaby veiled in apathy. Has it too fallen victim to the wishful last dews of the fresh lily bells by the shore? They too, fall asleep with a fresh coat of wishful blue.
The winds stay silent, caught by the old spin weaver as the wood becomes a new. The threads where spun, bounded with fate, as it still reflected the last moonlight gloom. It still weeps alongside the orchids, just for a sight of the next spring
All together, the leaves finally fall, just wrapped in a golden sorrow, sorrow that fell into an everlasting dream. Alongside the river, things began to slow, for the roses that will bloom, just for the next show.
Dec 5, 2025
Dec 5, 2025 at 6:45 AM UTC
A gust of wind powered by definition rushes through the unguided trees and catches the dancing golden leaves. Leaves swiftly glide alongside the sheer will of the west winds, winds that rhyme with rhythm and winds that carry an invention written of gold.
The wind continues its journey, rippling along the silk woven river. The river glistened in the ethereal dusk, flattened and smooth as a soft melody, gently catching the falling leaves in a lullaby veiled in apathy. Has it too fallen victim to the wishful last dews of the fresh lily bells by the shore? They too, fall asleep with a fresh coat of wishful blue.
The winds stay silent, caught by the old spin weaver as the wood becomes a new. The threads where spun, bounded with fate, as it still reflected the last moonlight gloom. It still weeps alongside the orchids, just for a sight of the next spring
All together, the leaves finally fall, just wrapped in a golden sorrow, sorrow that fell into an everlasting dream. Alongside the river, things began to slow, for the roses that will bloom, just for the next show.
Constrictive criticism is allowed, but please be mindful! Willing to take any suggestions as a beginner in writing
