Decay. Jan 2025
Lifeless leaves, clinging to the rough bark whispering stories of a life once vibrant. Of seasons that came and went. There’s something hauntingly beautiful about decay. In the melancholy stillness, a strange comfort.
What is, will not be. Life leads to life. Decay to regrowth. The cycle of the living and the dead. This moment, rough as the bark of the tree, shall too pass away. A quiet hope in the brittle fragility.
The ending is just another beginning. In disguise