Fog travels through the meadows, hiding travellers from sight. Only to be noticed were their echoes. At the dawn of day, the fog breaks away. And where there were once peace and beauty, the dark laid down heavy sheets of decay. For as there, many died in duty. There where war has passed, come a cursed darkness. That turned its host into a lonely place. But for time has turned those sheets, laid long ago, into strength and vitality. Supporting the new-grown forest, with trees bigger than ever.

Along came the rain, ever so soft. Making sounds on the window pane, tears from the spirits aloft. Murky fields, containing only emptiness. When even light yields, to make place for its soft caress. Peacefulness it brings, putting thoughts to rest. While its peace clings, and therefor I like it best.