My slow death.
Gentle caresses by the sun eating away my outsides.
I am disfigured.
My brothers and sisters fade in the distance as their creators walk by, indifferent.
Some gods even speed their children’s demise by kicking them down, laughing.
What could I have done to deserve this fate?
According to Eastern beliefs, if you are able to travel to different planes, at one of them, whatever you think of becomes real; think of a snowman with a soul and there will be one. Think of a sun, and there will be one...
Oh the poor snowmen! Doing what snow does in summer!
You just planted 0.24 tree(s)!
We have planted already 2609.627 trees
out of 1,000,000
Let's save and restore Abongphen Highland Forest
in Cameroonian village Kedjom-Keku!
My Steem Power = 18403.28
Thanks a lot!
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This post has received a 12.20 % upvote, thanks to: @royaleagle.