Beyond the creation of mankind lies a place of beauty and wonder. I go and breathe in the atmosphere that surrounds me and stand there for hours taking in the majestic scenery. For this place is truly untouched by humanity. It is in a pure state of it's own.
Could you see it? The luscious green of the grass at my boots that wave at me with all friendliness as the gentle breeze rolls in, the tender blue sky that shows youth by day and dreams at night. The large gentle giants that guard this land from trespassers that shelter their residents in their mighty oak bodies and many arms. Could you hear it? The roar of the neighboring spring that crashed against rocks and twigs inside its crystal water, the stillness of this world at it's finest hour giving life to all those who inhabit it. The soothing sounds of the leaves bristling each other to and fro at the arms of the gentle giants. Could you smell it? The crisp freshness of the leaves that decorate the scenery, the strong, powerful scent of the mighty giants, and the whiff of the cool breeze that rolls through the land gracefully. The energetic smell of the rich soil, flaring your nostrils in energy as you embrace it. Could you feel it? The energetic coldness of the spring as it rushes against the palm of your hand only to break and regroup. The thick and hard skin of the gentle giants rough against yours when you place your hand against it’s rough body and feels every curve and every turn. The small tickling of the grass against my feet whenever I take off my boots only to be felt warm against the glowing rocks the soak in the sunlight. Sunlight, oh so beautiful sunlight, the very thing that makes this world so pure. Feel it glaze your skin, give you warmth and youth, and make you forget the past years of strife just for this one tranquil moment. For this place truly is untouched as the stars of night. Mankind cannot destroy its peace, nor can mankind penetrate its pureness.
But it does. As royal as it may seem, arrogance will take over this land. The green grass will be replaced with craters and rubble and desolation. The tender blue sky will be blue no more, but gray, for the darkest hours of destruction. The gentle giants will fall, their leaves will become withered and die out as they do. The roar of gunfire rumbling against the battlefield will taint the roar of the spring. The stillness of the world will be no longer; it will become disrupted by bloodlust. The leaves will be scattered across the ground, lost and hopeless. Its scent will be overtaken by the scent of blood spilled across the soil that once flared my nostrils. The breeze will become sharp, giving you a chill rather than calmness. There will be no more grass to feel, only the jagged, pointed soil that will tear your feet instead. The gentle giants that once stood so mighty with hard and thick skin will fall; they become helpless against the land they once protected. The stream will be tainted red by the time you put your hands in to feel its coldness. And the sunlight, oh so beautiful sunlight, the very thing that made this land once pure. The sunlight shall no longer remain, for it will be covered by clouds of despair and rain full of strife and sorrow.
Mankind has poisoned nature, corrupting it through its selfish war. But one day, when we all perish, when the war is over, and when there is no more destruction in the world, nature will find its mighty crown upon its throne once again. There is no need for killing one another, no need to create fearful abominations, no need for destruction. This is where I belong, far beyond the battlefield, far beyond the treacherous scene of death, far beyond the horrors of hymn angony, and where I find peace, I shall fall.