The Breeze

The breeze brushed past the leaves,

it moved through the air like a calm river.

It was untameable,

flying freely.

Soaring through the sky,

it moved as it liked.

It flew,

past the trees, up the hill,

towards the town.

The breeze whirled past people,

stealing hats,

blowing open coats,

winding its way between buildings.

But the breeze began to slow down,

it had stumbled upon a powerplant.

The breeze began to fade, till it was barely there.

The bad air took over the body of the breeze,

killing it,

until there was nothing,

but smoke.