[[<img src='https://i.dlpng.com/static/png/1522335-peach-png-peach-png-599_446_preview.png'>|the start]]lovely [[fuzzy]]
sweet and pure
pretty in pink,
with crevaces [[sure]]
[[4/4->pink]] discolored flecks
stain her saccharine skin.
lovely in lilac
set to begin.
smooth to the touch
with a sure, [[solid]] inside.
[[1/4->smooth]]guaranteed to hurt
those who bite
too far.sweet that which
tough that which
[[1/4->bruises]] nature's proof
that to be soft
is to be [[powerful->anger]].
[[1/4->leaf]]the pit, final chance,
at new life; [[rebirth]].
she takes a deep breath
and dives firm in the earth.she waits there in patience
as years pass on by,
then sprouts a new chance
and remembers to [[fly->Next Passage]].[[<img src='https://imgur.com/nP6O62d'>|leaf2]][[<img src='https://imgur.com/a2BPI2W'>|fuzzy]]A thin wisp whistles through
the empty echoes
of a (text-style: "blur")[hollow chest].
[[2/4->chill]] Chill sets deep within the branches
and cries a (text-style: "shudder")[lonesome sound]
birds flock from.
[[2/4->alone]] Solitude (text-style: "emboss")[bleeds] open sores and
the incessant rubbing of (text-style: "rumble")[rattling ribs]
stirs a vicious beast that feasts on fragility.
[[2/4->anger]]A sprig of red
(click-replace: "grows")[plants] itself between the lungs
and [[feeds->solid]] on every inhale.
[[2/4->tree]] [[<img src='https://imgur.com/3hual3R'>|tree1]]/They are a god. Their bark stands firmly (text-style: "bold")[firmly] rooted in the earth like one of those giant, metal monstrosities the birds whisper about. They are powerful and regal, the leaves within each arm are a crown above their head, striking fear like arrows in the hearts of animals and men alike. The yellow pit above them is the only god higher; the fire provides both life and death equally and, like humble servants, they soak it up gratefully. But they are the strongest ox. They do not wilt like daisies or crumble like mountains. They will never lower their head in shame like bashful sheep./
[[years->tree2]] (text-style: "fade-in-out")[years]/Many Pits spin by like a wheel and they only grow taller, their arms are (click-replace: "poles")[branches] stretching for their spot among the gods. So intent on reaching the heavens, they hadn't noticed those same birds had made themselves as scarce as the warm temperature. The petals of many flowers were all-seeing eyes closed (click-replace: "permanently")[for the winter] and less and less animals scampered about like rodents. They only really began to notice when the first of their leaves fell like a solitary water droplet to the ground. The hot days of they dry season were sunbursts, leaving a wonderful (text-style: "blink")[flash] before disappearing./
[[years->tree3]] go by (mouseover-replace: "years")[years and years]/Every night was a thunderstorm spent in utter dismay that their god-like body had gone to ruin. How could they ask the sun to pity them as though they were the same? The birds had taken off like the wind at the first sight of winter and they were a starving snow leopard, lost at the top of Kilimanjaro. As the last of their leaves fell, they were the collapsed leopard, laying in the snow and accepting their fate. The sun‘s light was a (text-style: "mark")[beam] that smiled down at them. They avoided looking back, (text-style: "blur")[ashamed] of their past actions, but the sun was a gentle hand that caressed them. Under the light, they could see a small white flower rise through the blanket like a soldier and poke its head out. The snowdrop was a beacon of light.//
[[years->New Passage]] go by (mouseover-replace: "years")[years and years] (mouseover-replace: "years and years")[years and years and years] (mouseover-replace: "years and years and years")[years and years and years and years]/Like a resilient flower, they would rise./
(text-style: "fade-in-out")[/Like the winding wheel of time, the warm season would come again./]