what makes the eagle scream incessantly.. in earnest sound, filled with worry.. begging the moon to find its little one, who seems to have gone missing..
the wind wakes up to join the search, carrying whispers of a weak echo, from the opposite direction..
transfixed in a happy moment, we witness the hand of the Divine alchemist transform a silvery world to gold..
clouds experiment with hues seeking the right fit.. spilling colour all around in excited hurry..
one shapes itself as a white steed, stricken in mellow light.. few jump off like riders rolling into a ball in practiced fall..
slivers of rosy skin peep through the gold spun veil, as the world holds its breath, spellbound..
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