Seagulls cry to each other in a language only known to them.
As the crashing waves sing to the land a sweet lullaby.
The sun sparkles upon the surface of reality,
As the sea nymphs frolick beneath the foam.
In the forest, trees sleep to the music of the Fay.
The Fay, which rejoice among the solitude of nature.
/The whispering wind pushes back the evil of mankind/
So pure and clean is that which is Mother Earth.
Yet so powerful and protecting is that of my Father Sky.
Upon the air which is their breath,
Are whispers fortelling of my fate.
/Hear them clearly, I can not/
The Earth and Sky continue living,
Even as alone they watch me
/DIE/
March 19th @ 9:00am
Author notes
Dont Ask.
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