Ink SpillHold ground, don’t let the wind take you.
Man seeks belonging, belonging to a people, belonging to a way of life, belonging to a purpose, a purpose worth dying for.
Though long are the days when people were rooted in values of deep foundation. Today’s man is like the leaf, blown away from whatever today’s wind is trending.
A generation all flowing amidst the air, air-headed, purposeless, just enjoying the muse of the winds.
They believe they’re high, higher than those who wished to stick to land, though it’s inevitable that the wind will throw them scattered, to just lay there, crumble, die, and not even the silence of the winds mention their name.
While the ones who stood ground, are alike a tree, casting shades, blessing with fruits, and giving life to their surroundings.
The world is running out of trees, and oh, is it so full of leaves.