The crackling campfire offered little comfort this evening. My thoughts drifted to an old oak swing I once knew, a place where freedom felt real but now only brings a distant echo. Even the morning dew offered no freshness to this stale remembrance.
The crackling campfire offered little comfort this evening. My thoughts drifted to an old oak swing I once knew, a place where freedom felt real but now only brings a distant echo. Even the morning dew offered no freshness to this stale remembrance.