Simply in this hallow world,
where water creeps up,
onto the shores of the the walking,
in this hallow world,
where fire destorys,
making black dust in it's path,
in this hallow world,
where the wind whispers,
and howls in it's temperment,
in this hallow world,
where the rocks crack,
and earth spilts with an aching groan,
in this hallow world,
there is many things,
things of the past and future,
things that hold such sorrow,
that deserves never to be spoken,
in this hallow world,
where the eye only sees,
and mind only thinks,
there are mysteries,
of dark and bright things,
in this hallow world,
where everyone becomes,
nothing more than just that,
a thing.