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An ocean of green. Islands of stone peering out among the trees.
The wind carries away the sounds of the city, replaced by bird’s symphony.
One lonely tone pervades, a tram beside nature’s domain.

Far below, a city frozen, yet vibrant with motion. Time stands still in pockets, as ancient facades crowd around stone paths. Modernity beneath the roofs, yet from above, it could still be in a form long past.

Oh to be nobility, riding and strolling among these cool pillars, a palace for summer, leisure, and love.
Gardens abound, Spring at its peace. Echoes of romance linger among the trees. Whispers, secrets, long faded, their joined impressions a mist upon the grass.

Fade away, loud people all around. Fade as time carries me into the past, an age of castles, knights, and crowns.
Shower me not in rain, but in waves of time captured in these smooth stones. Towers stand above the clay roofs, a chain of ages tied together in a knot of moments. Pieces of movements, cultures, and styles.
Who are you Prague?
What are you – young or old? Forever changing, I seek to find your core.

If times’s winds would wear you down, might sand and clay be all they find in centuries to come? Will they remember your history, your peoples, or your joys? A city full of story, will it all be lost one day?
For death comes to us all some day. Eternity at war with fate.
Humans wish to make their mark, to last within the world they left, a memory, a dream on stone facade. Facsimiles of fixed moments we hope remain until the end,

forget-me-not’s blowing among the fields of stone.

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