un4n0wn

a feather gliding along side the wind like its weightless, the feather drifts for days going through every season 13 times and when the feather finishes stop it awakes to nothingness. the feather was in the middle of a war, the explosions, the gun shots, the blood everywhere. the was no way of telling if it had finally stopped or not but the feather now that the only thing left was him, the soil was gone just stone, no trees not even enough air to keep a flower alive for no day. the feather know there was nothing else so with that, the feather took the last of the oxygen and flowed ever so softly until he was laying on the ground the only thing left with color.