It carried so lazily in the wind, like the long string of a kite left wandering the sky.
The drawl of summer succumbed to the breeze of fall, the leaves succumbed and fell.
An antagonistic fervor rang out through the yards, just deepening the sense.
In weeks, all would be recorded in assigned essays, demoralizing, sealing the fate.
It stole away as a thief into the night.
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The musings of a mind. A mind of musings. We as a species put foot to ground, but, more specifically, we as a generation put word to screen. This is just an expression of my youth. Some days I'll express my frustration, others someone else's frustration. Ilya "Red Beard" Nikhamin
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