Small things turn into large features, and viceversa.
What used to delight, irritates.
The wonder is dulled, has become routine. The flags wave no more, the air is still.

It can be a drawn-out process, like a tree that dies over slow years of decay.
It can be quite sudden, like an earthquake that modifies a well-known landscape.

It can even know remissions.

What it does not know, is hope.

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