BENEATH A SKY OF THORNS

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the land. A chill wind whistled through the barren trees, their branches reaching towards the heavens like skeletal fingers. Within this desolate landscape, a forgotten figure wandered. Their footsteps were soft, swallowed by the hissing thorns that covered the ground. Each thorn was jagged,

The air strangles us with the scent of decay. Every step grates against the barbed ground, a constant reminder of the world's cruelty. We thrive in this landscape of anguish, where trust is a commodity and compassion a liability. Our lives are molded by the thorns that entwine us, scarring our souls with their relentless unyielding touch. Lege