Bitten Gardens

Ethereum

ERC-721

Masked Player

Root

2025-02-23 15:23:25.134 -0600

Loose ground, brittle layers. A step firm, then slipping. Gravity calls. The sun fractures. Rain leaks through. A grin. Hollow unheard. Palms clenched, craving release. A boy’s mask, stretched thin over the abyss. Spinning, unmoored, drunk, drowning. Thick dark, breathless. Clots my throat, blinds my sight. Limbs locked, tremors crushed. The path swallows itself. Speed, an apparition. No claim to stake, no space to carve. At least you tried. As if it mattered.

Finalist

How far are humans from these fruits? Isn't our beauty shaped by impermanence itself? Unable to bear the weight of knowing we decay, we cling to the quiet arrogance of believing we must leave a legacy for the future.

Mothers remain immortal; we inherit them and carry them within us, in the lives we live, the ones we nurture, the love we share, and the legacies we shape for those who follow. When I was a child, she used to say: 'A piece of my heart lives within yours'

Ah, fallen warrior. Once defiant, now silent among roots. I sway above, pretending time won’t reach me. Wind above or rot below, time claims us all. Guess I’ll just enjoy the view a little longer before I join you. Save me a spot in the ruins, will you?

Sogna, ragazzo, sogna Non cambiare un verso della tua canzone Non lasciare un treno fermo alla stazione Non fermarti tu

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10456.64574

154.8380155