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mossfield The hues of new spring surroundmossfield by ~DropDeadDream93
the enclosed and brutal red,
Purple mist and hard ice ground
is Mossfield in the mown grass, dead
Winter; Summer, breeze allows
flags to wave above the grey,
As a golden god follows
a young boy, itching to play.
Cool wind rattles past his ears
with no cares around his neck:
All concentration, no fears.
Only time stood still and watched his fall - crack.
Splintered, he is blissfully unaware,
His eyes plastered with a blank, peaceful stare.
Sta.sh
i'm immature 
i really love that picture
