fallow gale
An area of peace existed among the wires that hold our world afloat.
A place of solstice, meeting friends, sharing experiences.
A safe place for people to be themselves in, sharing creations and memories for everyone to experience and enjoy. When you're younger, you can't imagine anything better than the time you spent there in your safe haven.
But when you grow up, you feel a sense of grief when you watch the swings break lose, the towers fall, and the joy of the place crumbles. Watching it being taken away, with nothing you can do about it.
Maybe they want to improve it, build upon it so that others can experience the wonders that you have. But you know inside it's not true. Efforts don't match the costs, severs take so much power, and you just have to accept the destruction of a place you considered a home.
wary loom