Aaah, fall. Some shady clouds cover up half of the moon, but it leaves enough of the white lady to shine over the fields. In the center, some fair maidens are dancing with lads, who have been working all day on the field. As the fire throws shadows on the walls of the huts and the small church, you grab a glass of cool beer, and look around. The warm smell of the pig enters your nose, when the priest gets the honour of cutting the first piece. Everybody shouts, laughs, sings, ... You turn around as you bump into a sweet girl, with red hair and pale skin. You start dancing, your feet spinning because of the music, your head spinning because of the beer, and you heart spinning... You grab her, and guide her to the field, to lay on the hay thats still warm from the after-summer sun, that has been traded for shimmering stars, unspoiled by pollution... And then you wake up, in a grey world, where fair maidens twerk instead of dance, music shatters ears instead of brining people together, and where people sit all day in the darkness of a factory, instead of working under the loving rays of the sun. Get medieval. I beg you. ~Jacques De Molay
Posted on: Thu, 18 Sep 2014 18:50:08 +0000