Wet Soil Beneath My Hand by Melissa R. Mendelson
Wet Soil Beneath My Hand by, Melissa R. Mendelson This world was haven once, and life was destiny to be written and remembered. And then the ground broke, and everything fell apart. Where forests stood now stand concrete. The taste of fresh air is now stale and congested. Dreams loved the silver lining on clouds now grown dark, and nature suffers, weeping still from what she lost. This world is locked in a vice that we call our own, and all those free to roam now run toward extinction. Ghosts are left behind in fearful eyes of the ones hoping that we do not steal them away from life, from this world, but we still hunt. No satisfaction lies within hunger of human nature, and extinction is our end result. But what will happen when time comes for us, and nature with all her fury unleashes all her spirit upon us? Will we too fade away, or will we realize this world once a haven is now being destroyed by us because we never seem to get enough of the hunt, of shopping malls, or endles...