The sky is gloomy, the sun, peeking out from behind the clouds every
so often. The saplings sway gently in the breeze, their roots firm,
yet pliable. The water ripples and flows, as if it were gaining
momentum to free itself of its cage. Sadly that is not so, the
barriers are too concrete, unwavering in their ability to keep it in
check. As it may be, the water never gives up, hoping that one day,
it might free itself of its prison, might flow down into the earth,
to become one with nature. Although it might be trapped, it does not
dwell on it, choosing instead to try, try again, believing that it
will prevail, that freedom will finally be theirs. And when it
reaches that moment, nothing will have tasted so sweet, nothing
will ever be its equivalent, for once you taste the power freedom
holds, there is no going back.

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