| Without A Sound |

Snapped

            We are very much like the leaves on a plant. The soft, delicate feel of the earth's creation, but when a hand is placed on top, it collapses...and very rarely comes back up. They try to set them back up, but, ultimately, they fall back down. We are very much like the stems as well, when the pressure is released on them, they snap, and cannot, ever, be restored again. Just like us.

|<><>| Snapped |<><>|

"So many things we think that will keep for tomorrow, won't." - Tim Fargo

The orchids were a nasty blue on the side of the frozen lake. Trees with branches and ice crystals did not sway in the wind.

The lake in the middle was frozen over, the ice was a soft blue, allowing the deep waters underneath to be shown. One wrong step, and a person is plunged to their demise.

The prodding of others is well-known. It is not a secret that others want to know all your deep memories, whether for good or for bad.

The silence is what makes it the worst.

They have no idea of what is to come, no way to prepare.

As when that one word is slipped, The ice begins to crack, and the cracks become deeper before..

It all cracks.

And they plunge into the cold waters.

Hoping to resurface.

Yet, that is unlikely.

As the harm has made its mark.

And sometimes, that mark is too deep.

But then, the unlikely happens.

They resurface.

The ones that are the strongest, are the weakest.

The ones that are the weakest, are the strongest.

However, most don't realize that.

They don't look past the physical abilities, to see who is truly unique.

This hurts people dearly, and when the time comes and the ice cracks, there is only a hope of the resurface.

But that is all that is needed.

A single hope, one genuine hope, is all it takes.

The amount of power a hope is enough.

Just enough.

And they resurface, in which the cracked crystal blue lake is seen. The nasty blue orchids are seen. The trees with branches and ice crystals that did not sway in the wind was seen.

One thought, one hope, is all that is needed to make another resurface.

Just the thought that they mattered.

That the rumors were indifferent to them.

That is all that matters.

It does not matter that the ice has snapped.

It does not matter that the trees with branches and ice crystals did not sway in the wind.

It does not matter that the blue orchids had such a nasty color.

It does not matter at all.

And that is what matters most of all.

When you are snapped, you can always be

brought back to the surface,
repaired.

And soon winter passes,
without a sound.