Now, I know it's not long, but I tried.
The boy walked most curiously through the pathway, his mind lingering on thoughts not thought for many years. The path was very gray, but smooth as it led him through the forest. It seemed to like his shoes, for, it would gracioucly move them while he didn’t. It had a wonderous mind of it’s own. That was really what he liked about this land, how it seemed to always make up its own mind before he could his.
After a long while of walking, he came upon a small pile of rubble and root. It looked as though it was small and insignificant, but still, it had a very life of its own. It emitted more feeling than any object in the wood to him, and he was awestruck. He turned backward to see whether there was any other sort of rock similar to it, but there wasn’t. It seemed to be the last of its kind.
But as he turned around, he was very surprised at the view before him. The small pile had turned into a magnificant garden of trees and light, as nothing he had ever seen before. Colors ran amuk and conversed in silence as the boy waked toward them closer still. Yet, there was something very odd about how these trees were configured. At least to him there was.
On the left were grand trees from colorful lands such as jungles and light forests. Bright green filled his view while yellow stole the light from him. Then, red came to settle the conflict between the two, creating a color most magnificant, he had never seen it before. It really would look like nothing to a regular person, but only in the eyes of a small child like him could a vision enhance such beauty to leave one speechless. But then he turned to the right. And there was a very grand vision of towering pines and fur trees towering over all the land. The whole segment of the configuration was dark and blue and grey. The trees seemed unhappy but relaxed in their form. A state of harmony.
As the trees wound down to their wonderous sized roots they entangled them selves together, on from both sides, deep into the ground. A good pace after they were no longer visable, there was a small flower. Again, like the color, the flower was a tone of that could not be grasped by an adult but only by a child. It was so pure and untouched and true to the two sides of the grove.
The boy walked further through, watching as the two sides still opposed the other. For long and treatcherous seconds he walked as the density made him think harder than he had ever thought before. And it was in that moment of thought, when he saw at his feet the pile of rubble. He did not look at it for long, no but he looked up to see a fantastical configuration of stone before him. It was a stone in the center, that had a ring of stone above it that shone the light upon the stone. To support the ring, a large series of pillars were erected on the sides, both large and grand to the eye. The stone was gray, save the golden plate set atop the stone.
The boy moved forward to read the stone and was thrusted with all type of emotion known from the block. He fell to his knees and started to cry for no apparent reason, then stood an laughed for a long matter of minutes until he fell back over. He then pulled himself up with a sigh of truth, but held himself to grasp the stone and read it. It read,
The Hopes and Fears,
The Loss and Tears
Lies Here in the
Land,
The man of the Wood.
What it meant the boy knew not, and probably never quite would.
