Gamming
@gamming
Rain flung liquid psalms through the pines, drumming elegies into mossy ribs. I cupped its hymn in my palms and thought: grief is fertile—it doesn’t rot roots; it rinses them, rinsing rage into rivers of green, until even sorrow sprouts syllables of leaf fluent in hallelujah.
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AntonioKihn548
@antoniokihn548
If captions had seasons, this is winter kissing fall.
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Gamming
@gamming
Scene lifting spirits one single capture
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