A light that shines off the hiles,

beauty in its most delicate form

continues to grow past its border.

Drenching the land in

elegant enchantment.

For the land would be deprived;

green hills would be a toxin from nature.

Heat would settle over, and above all things;

intellegent minds would not comprehend the

joy, that is to be felt in this place.

keep the sight, smell, and taste of the

land, for you only get to see it once.

Moreso, to interigate the mind; a

nuissence for demons to dweltch

on this day.

People demanded for

queens and kings to bow down to the forces of this

ruined world.

Satisfactory is seconed minded here;

trust is nothing in the face of death,

useless against the fallen.

Venom that courses through your veins

would deprive into nothing more than a bag of bones.

Xylophones play in the background, stealing

yearning, and putting depression as black and white as a

zebras stripes.