storms serve as a reminder that even our Sky breaks. weeps, cracks, and booms at the anguish below. what more can we do but shake our fists and blame all but nameless fears, faces we recognize, those that would betray the very fabrics of our collected atmosphere if it meant that they would not burn from the rain. or the air they break, without thought, the things that are true. from the river, to the sea I see you. We can see everything.
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