∴ Millennia, that is how long it has been. Thousands of years of corruption, blood and death. And now, resting at the crown of their writhing, depraved tree lies plastic, and pollution. Nothing good ever comes from them . . .
Thus now, we move. For millennia we have stood by, and watched. In truth, we rarely move, and when we do it is never quick. Our siblings, the water and the winds may, for their ravaging fury comes in bursts. But we are the Earth, the Flora – and our wrath is unrushed, yet cataclysmic.Continue reading ✤ When the woods come marching in . . .