The Terrain

Silence.

Blisful with a sting of truth.

Burns upon a canvas

Fire within the bottle

Caverns upon soft ground.

Built by salty waters

Fear.

What moves us to such horrors?

What drives the hunter to kill its prey?

Eyes like grassy meadows

Surrounded by red rivers.

Dwindling like the leaves in fall.

Cascading on the ground.

Shapes.

Fog gripping to the mirror.

Not those of a picture.

But a memory.

The road overgrown

Waiting to be taken

Sadness

Hills form from grief

Sprouting from the ground like weeds

Covering like gentle silk

Untainted by imperfections 

Until the blades came

Kindness

Saves the rigorous terrain 

Mends the cavers and mountains

The mountains buckle 

Time flies

The meadow grows happy

Like the spring time boom

Then a simple smile sets the sun

Over the terrain