Owlsquatch Chronicles

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Rich smells of earth,Rising high into the air,Like autumn in the woods,After rain softens the fallen leaves. Every morning reveals the nights growth.Promising sweet fruits,And alimentary greens,Offered in mutual exchange. Health, wonder, and joy,For safety, care, and propagation.We thought us the masters,But who really trained who?

Long days,Spend alone. Sun rays,Rarely shown. Familiar faces,Only in dreams. Suffocating spaces,With the darkest themes. Up rise the sprouts,Strong in the storm. Never with doubts,Just minds to reform.