My heart was like a wheat field, everyone was reaping what they sowed, but no one wanted to plant saplings, everyone went away with their picks, no saplings grew, neither the saplings grew in my heart, nor the soil remained as it was, only fragmented and injured, so dry that it was so dry, unless it was planted, sinkholes appeared in the field, the field no longer intended to be planted, nor did the planters have 1 sapling to plant in the field.
