sad Soft is the Earth.

[IRegretThisWholePartOfM 58]

Kick.
Kick.
Kick.

Lives revolving around it.
Kick.

Kick.

Kick.

The mouths must be filled.

Yet. The feeder, grows weary. The soil beneath her feet soaking with the red lifeblood that runs through her, the chippings, black from the hooves that ache so with the pain of a hundred hungry pony's, laying on the ground as a reminder of the sorrow felt by the farmer.

The soil is soft, tilled, and worked. The dirt seeps into the wounds like knives, but still the farmer pushes on. Later the shovels shall move, for the dead need their rest. But the toll on the gravedigger, is almost as bad as the pain that those being buried felt in life, as the gravedigger bury's those who she knows.

The pain. It flows like a raging river. The sorrow. Drowning her in the tidal wave of regret. The need to stop is so great, almost overwhelming. but the farmer pushes on. there are mouths to feed.

And as the hooves collide. The final splitting pain runs through her legs. The pain, pushing her even farther to the edge of doom, the edge of the way of life as pony's knew it. The dirt cradles her as she lays. The blood only softening the dirt more, now like on a cloud, the farmer rests. The farmer rests, and the people grow hungry. But the farmer worry's not. For the farmer knows that her peace is coming. 
The farmer falls.

The Orange is stained red.

But still does the farmer fight on.

Soil grows black.
And the dirt, will soon be softer still.

Edited June 2, 2014 by Soren Nightwing