Haze.
Smoke.
Dimness.
Darkness.
Pitch black.
Then, a beat.
A thump.
A whisper.
A spoken word.
A glimmer.
With every sound, the littlest of the light grows and glows.
The music illuminating stalls my withering.
My roots dig the ground farther and my leaves possess the air wider.
Keep me moist, keep me breathing, keep me alive.
Keep me loved. Keep me loving.
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