On the ridge the wind never rests, and nothing grows straight there.
The trees that refused to bend are lying down now, covered in moss.
The one still standing looks nothing like the tree it meant to be.

The Bent Forest
The shape of survival is rarely straight.
On the ridge the wind never rests, and nothing grows straight there.
The trees that refused to bend are lying down now, covered in moss.
The one still standing looks nothing like the tree it meant to be.