A/N – Sorry, in case you noticed...probably not...It's not exactly the same as the last chapter...I just added some more to it...kay? Please review...

Spring----------

The sun rises.

Drops of fresh, pearlescent dew lay unmoving as the bright rays of the rising sun shimmer over the elegant petals like a cascading waterfall, tendrils of liquid silk. They remain motionless, perfect spheres on perfect thrones, as if reluctant to join the blossoms that so readily gave up their perches next to the stars and moonbeams.

Time passes.

Laughter can be heard in the distance. A twinkling melody of pure joy. The notes soar as the chirping of birds hesitantly join the song. A gentle breeze rocks the emerald leaves back and forth, back and forth, coaxing them to dance. The flowers flutter once, and fall. Almost inaudible whispers of silk follow as they come to rest in a bed of fragrant petals, waiting for the next bringer of change.

----------

Time flies on black wings.

Has it truly been 10 years since I have stood here, under the fallen cherry tree? Reminiscing about the petals that fall, dance, twirling to a song only they can hear. Falling onto the ground, the stream, dancing, singing, evaporating into the dark abyss that lurks beneath the peaceful mask. Ignorant to the harsh reality, the forgotten guide.

What is freedom? Life is but a continuation of a simple game that repeats.

You used to gaze at them. Hours wasted. Thoughtful minutes of tranquility. Catching them in your hands. Smiling, always smiling at a secret locked away. I did not understand. Why stare at something that will always be here?

Year after year, it has stood, against the snowstorms, the rain.

But time passed.

Year after year... after year. The bark peeled, cracked, fell. A pawn to the reality of life, victim to the cruelty of time.

Time.

Time took everything from me, all that I cared about. It strikes with a bittersweet vengeance that comes packaged in neat minutes, seconds, hours. Unsuspecting dots in history are brought down. Weak among the strong.

Summer----------

The parched landscape is bathed in molten streams of fire. The bitter scent of burning grass fills the air as streams of tainted light fight to pierce the sooty shadow of ominous clouds.

Soft footsteps can be heard as animals surge like a oncoming wave over the scorched landscape, determined to die another time.

Foam lands on the ground, splattered with indistinguishable specks of blood. A wall of flames rears up, clashing with the dry trees, bursting into another monstrous creation of death. Hunger drives them, always chasing something they cannot reach...

The finish line.

----------

Too late.

Too late, too late. The melody of life stops for no one. The tragic notes silhouetted against the horizon, left by joy, by hope, by death.

Birth, life, death.

Yet the rain still falls. Wet. Rivulets of pain gliding down a well-worn path. Sliding, pausing, finding peace in the blackness, the void of eternity. Giving up the chase, passing on with words of blessings, curses, and silence.

Silence

.
We will all walk down that road someday, a cursed part of nature that came with the rising dawn.

The uncomplicated rhythm that applies to millions of individuals, each thinking that they believe in something different, but are kept from the truth.


Life stops for no one. Autumn----------

Lone leaves drift.

Splashes of color by day, carrier of wishes by night. Single dots in history that observes, ever watchful.

They see.

Unwanted victims of age, they drift in a world of oil paint, forever captured on a sheet of florescent leaves.

They land, caught in the midst of light and dark, trapped eternally in battles for dominance of things they abhor, too blinded by hate to understand.

They land.

On the forest floor beside the ripe berries.

Dancing to the wind, they settle on a small cottage made of wood... And warmth.

----------

You left without me. You slipped down the road of healing, into the russet dawn. Never looking back. You assured a promise that you knew will be broken. What good would it do? Time, our savior, our teacher, our friend, held the black blade behind you. The sharp pinprick of pain resurfaces, a reminder of promises broken, opportunities spent.

Defeated, faded, bent.

I remember your tears, your sorrow as you waved goodbye. I can still see your eyes, laden with pain, with responsibility.

You left.

Winter----------

The darkness is almost tangible, the suffocating blanket of black. Streams of moonshine glide over the fresh flakes of snow that twirl from the sky in ethereal spirals with grace.

Silence falls as a figure bathed in stardust appears. Long, crimson hair is let loose as the shimmering strands join the raging wind in a passionate dance.

Minutes pass, then hours, the horizon begins to bleed as fiery tendrils of light shoot from the mountains.

Covered in radiance, the glowing figure looks longingly at the fading night. Then, almost regretfully he turns and leaves, a dot on the flat plain of snow.

The leaves rustle, hoping he would come back, to stand under the luminous moon, to be a permanent shadow, never late.

----------

Seconds turned into minutes, turned into hours, turned into days. The seasons passed, merging into fall, the acorns ripened, dropped. Remnants of snow melt, flowing into spring.

We are but pawns on a chessboard of fate, locked forever in a battle with life; Only too late do we finally realize the simple ease fate cuts us with scissors of doubt, winding the imaginary strings down imaginary paths, creating imaginary emotions for imaginary friends.

The saplings we planted so many years ago grew, symbols of fortitude. They matured. If you were here, you would laugh, smile, dance amid the falling petals. I would be watching you, smiling, smiling. Time took that away from me. Memories that cannot be attained. Moments of a daydream that must end, gone, forever lost to fate.

Now, even as weeds cover up where you last stood, hiding the last link to happiness, I smile. I smile for the irony of life, giving us what we wanted, only to take it away. The brief years of bliss, expectations of senility, shattered, blown away, swept off by the tide of destiny, of existence.

I stand here, beside the stream. Waiting. Always waiting, for a pledge that faded with the sparkle in your eyes. For a fleeting glimpse of elation that I did not deserve. It ended with your mirth, your cries, your love.

The hourglass of contentment tilts, swaying to the rhythm of anger, beating to the poundings of a thousand drums.

All things must change, a cursed part of nature that came with the rising dawn. The mirage of eternity lingers only in the innocent blue eyes of children, unscarred by the facts of subsistence. Still, even the golden sunshine fades. Only the ghost of laughter remembers: Your smile... My youth.

But I refuse to let go, even as the sky bleeds in remembrance, sketches on a torn notepad. Memories of happier days keep me standing, living for a bleak illusion of crystalline tears. The delusion of hope faded the day you left me. I no longer expect, I stand here, harmless, beneath the cherry tree.

It's raining.

Cold streams wash away the blood of countless lifetimes, rinsing off the pain with a hundred tears. For lost memories, dreams broken, shattered, another part of destiny. The guilt doesn't find me there, locked in the warm cocoon of your love.

Do you weep?

For the millions of tears that fall, followed by spring showers. Cleansing away sins, making room, for new innocence. Petals that melt, unnoticed, shades of gray. Blending once more into the detached somber sky.

You freed me.

But chained me.

With ropes of bliss drenched with pain, with rain. Bathing the remembrance of a million lies. Slipping. Forgetting.

I wish...

For one last memory...Of happier times, to keep me standing in the shallow rain...of the shadows in a faded dream.

Why must we feel pain? Is life so cruel as to place joy behind a curtain of torment...Expecting us to live through a blanket of darkness, unaware of our naivety? Yet we still jump...Trusting fate to carry us safely over a rift of daggers. Destiny is pitiless.

We think that death is the passage from one life to another; deluded into thinking that living is the ultimate prize. In the place of logic, we invented empty figures with empty morals, placing them on empty pedestals with empty threats. In a way, we were the ones who secured our downfall.

I cry.

The seasons pass.

They rush with flames over the innocent buds of spring, children forced to grow up in a world of hate, eyes too young to know the truth.

They scorch the land with flames, with color, with death. Tiny crumbs on the margin of society lay down, shudder, and fall. Unmoving.

The world turns bitter, unforgiving, as loss rains down in the place of tears. Ice covers the land, frozen in a forgotten moment of silence.

People want to see what they desire to see, creating parts to recite for every occasion, only the best actors make it on top of the transparent pyramid made of blank believes.

Never once looking back to a time when peace reigned, living in a fairytale story of bliss.

Life is hard.

Yet they still wander, lost, reaching for the highest rung, only to realize the mortality of happiness, wishing for a time when they took the "other" path into the darkness, too ignorant to see the waiting jaws of a crouching tiger.

One leaf in a pond of ripples, we drift in a sea of knowledge, ignoring the importance of the many flows of resonance, refusing to give truth another meaning:

Man is man's own judge.

Summer fireflies emerge. Holding lanterns, light without warmth, love without pain. Wishes whispered to the crescent moon. Floating on innocent wings of light, untainted by darkness, the unavoidable night. Angles break out in song. Voices soaring, dancing in the freedom that is death, flying onto a different road, another way.

Down a well worn path.