The crumbling watchtower, covered in creeping vines, its rusty keyhole remains locked.
An unknown bird with emerald feathers flies, an olive branch held in its beak.
Beneath the water's depths, a mountain of debris sinks, the remnants of a
Words are flow.
A vague, fluffy thing that disappears as soon as you grab it.
Differences in interpretation create conflict.
We wish understand each other.
Turn vague thoughts into words.
Like chasing petals scattered in the wind.
