InfernoXfx

A land with no homes for those with wings creaks like the sound of my old rusty swings. You watch the Sun's movie play across the flat screen of mountains and hills and everything in between. The chants of the glaciers just over beyond are in time to life's known lullaby song. With the wind chasing clouds to Neverland, you smile as you fill your small hands with black sand. This is a land for the sacred and the pure; a land where traditions and myths shall long endure. It's a place where stories will always be told; a haven where it's warm even when it's cold.