And when the skies turned to golden hour, I found you across the phenomenon. The idling clouds couldn't contain the longing for you, they're all waiting.

As the trees were swayed when you walked by, they all seemed to brush off the lingering sorrows of yesterday.

The moment your fingers brushed the petals of flowers, making it blossom and reach their peak, a picturesque.

You are too wholesome to just burden yourself with nobody's speech. Be like a butterfly, know that you'll be able to fly in the midst of the meadow, surrounded by beauty and everything.

© aubby.krrn