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    The still winds not rustling a single leaf, the bare trees so lifeless and drained of color.
    Though the wind is calm, it doesn’t stop the bitterness of the rigid night from attacking un-expecting creatures. The lake lay unmoving not returning the skies colourful gaze, the extraordinary colors dancing in the sky.

    The dead leaves lay like a blanket over the once green earth, as if to protect it as a mother protects her sleeping children. The sun is but a slave to the pale moon as it takes its leave, the mighty sphere prepares to take its place beside the shining children of the sky.


    (p.s children of the sky are stars)