Wind River
There's a meadow in my perfect world... where wind dances the branches of a tree, casting leopard spots of light across the face of a pond. The tree stands tall and grand and alone, shading the world beneath it.
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It is here, in the cradle of all I hold dear, I guard every memory of you. And when I find myself frozen in the mud of the real, far from your loving eyes... I will return to this place, close mine, and take solace in the simple perfection of knowing you.