He stands upon the stoned roof gazing over the dancing fields of tall grass that stretch into an unfathomable distance. The chilled winter air whirls in an untamed tango over the desolate landscape. The night glows with the dim shine of the golden moon sitting in the bed of stars, creating a magnificent scene no paper could recreate with mere pens and pigments. The faint echoing of a whimpering dog in the distances slouches through the crisp air like the solemn playing of taps in the bitter downpour of the saddest funeral. A sudden gale briskly washes over the man on the roof, causing his wispy hair to stand at alert along the base of his neck. With his arms wrapped snuggly around his shivering body, the scene stays in his head as a lucid dream, beauty without imperfection. An icy tear slides slowly down his face as he departs for his home.