I walk along this small path, I'm not sure where I'm heading. Beneath my feet are wooden planks. Worn from the years of men and demon traveling from place to place. Collection stories of peoples intent and they traverse. This small path connects the bodies of land, two small islands bathed in moon light. Now that the blanket of night has been ap gently layer over the people who dwell here, the spirits rise. Spirits of joy, harmony, peace, unity... they all rise into the air, they rise into us. Now I sit, I sit of the edge of the world, looking off into a murky space that is constantly shifting. I see the thoughts of one million souls ripple through space and time. The water is so beautiful at night. The small bugs that cry light along the waters surface, how the fire of lanterns dances along the water. No I listen, I listen to nothing. The only sounds are those of the animals in the wild. I hear the cricket, I hear the birds of night, I hear the frogs. Off in the distance I see a line of trees. So dense I could never hope to see beyond them. Like a wall built by nature so we knew not to leave our islands.
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