She ran into the forest,
As the dawn shattered the night.
Slipped through the ever reaching fingers,
Of the mornings blinding light.
And as she stumbled onwards,
The trees all slowly shifter hue.
For even ancient oaks,
Have the desire for changes too.
Yet with the weight of all she held,
They knew their leaves could not compete.
So they gave their auburn lives,
To line the path beneath her feet.
She ran past months and seasons,
While the wind grew crisp and chill.
And through the depths of winter,
She continued forward still.
Until with lungs protesting,
At the distance she had run,
She broke free of the tree line,
Back to the place she had began.
But the forest showed no signs,
That something grand occurred within.
Under a sky still slightly cracked,
Where a new day would soon begin.
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