Looking On With Tired Eyes

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The sun had fallen from its place above, painting the sky red and orange, tinting the clouds a range pinks and purples. The wind blew a warm breeze, the air thin. The top of his golden blonde hair, shinning as violet and blue seeped into the atmosphere, stars as tiny, flickering dots in the sky. The world in front him seemed so big, so vast, so beautiful from his elevated position. Every element came together gave off a feeling of calmness, freedom, peace and hope. Though it seemed that from the ground there was nothing, that beyond a cloak of trunks and leaves there was nothing but waste, there was more.  And his tired eyes would give up everything to see it all again.

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