Fields of Ash

The wind howls through the barren landscape, a mournful song carried on the back of swirling dust. Twisted trees claw at the sky, their branches bare like withered fingers. A sickly sun casts its wan light upon this wasteful world. Here, in the depths of the dust, silence reigns absolute. Yet, even
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15