The stars shine over head like a million night lights. There light, a beacon in the night. There beauty unmatched, unrivaled, and uncontested. They shone like diamonds in the sky. They shall prevail through the night to guild the sun back up again. Then the bright ever shining sun shall lengthen the days and its prolonged presence will bring about spring witch melts into summer. The sun’s wake gliding through winter with the hope of spring. As Spring wanes the sun gives way to summers warm benevolence. The flowers bloom in early spring with the first rain of blue sapphire. These budes are blue, purples, & are a shade of red as vibrant as the shining mountain creek. The flowers behold twisting petals that glisin in the morning dew and as the ever definite spring gives way to summer. The tree stand guard as the ever watchful centuries. The flowers shone bright and vibrant. The sun of summer shines warm and benevolent.

The reeds are like shining bright emeralds. They form a mighty ring of pointy plasaides around a pound. A pound of algae. With its 7 red winged black bird as there ever watchful senteries. The hawk ever searching for toads and frogs. As the turtle baskets on a warm rock in the shimmering sunlight. It baskes on a rock of 7 gems. And the snakes observe the swaying branches that rusle in the wind. The spider croches and lies in wait. There lies a low land riddled with snail shells like they were an offering to the pound. The deer walk on the pointy rocks. The hawk sorse over head. It glides on jet streams unseen under the light of a dark black night. The shadows fall upon a pond filled with lily pads. The last rays of light are disappearing behind the mountain. It forms an oasis of light in the fading dark black night. The setting sun it bright red, orage, pink, purple, & magenta. It light gives warmth and growth. Yet its darkness wakes the wolves and prowlers of the nocturnal night.

A land of endless glades, lush forests, endless pounds and streams lay to the south a great distance. The bright sun reflecting in the shimmering brooks. While the rivers are cold and riddled with fresh fish. The most beautiful prospering land. Fields of endless wildflowers and tall snow capped mountains with huge fildes of glimmering green and an onslaught of bright magnificent color. The sun shone bright through the trees limbes. It’s shafts of light striking the barren winter stricken ground. Only to yield bright orange flowers and tall green grass. The flowers will be bright yellow and will shine like pure gold. The lilac trees stand tall and strong as the chill and bites faded from the breeze. The rippling grass in whispering glade sings a song of the new year. The bright flowing currents like folded silver overlapping and passing over the age old stone. Smooth as a pain of glass. The bright mica and cortez and the mighty geodes. The water is clear and flowers ever peaceful and beautiful. Then the horses shall run free in the glades and feel the warm breeze once more.

They march through a great cannon. They hear the wolves baying in the night. The cries cut through the darkness. The walls of limestone reveals the thousands of history in the sea bed. The thud of an arm falling to the cannon floor echoes for minutes. The snarl of the zombies and ghouls pierce through the night. The dead see a lone wolf silhouetted in the moon’s harsh light. They hear the pitiful cries for help as deer are hunted by winter wolves. The screams as human travelers are ripped limb from limb by werewolves. The  rip of flesh and snap of bone. The moon fades away and a red sun rises, blood was shed this night.

The birds of the mountain play tunes upon the breeze. Rustling the few flowers clinging to life on the mountain road. The bighorn sheep chase each other through the sloping mountain pass. The early mist of morning glows. It is illuminated with the morning sun. Which hangs in the sky a yellow, orange, & red fireball. A crow flies with the wind through the valley towards a dead carcass. It is lured by the scent of food. A giant willow tree stands guard over an ancestral swamp. The dead begin to crawl out of every tomb and crypt. Some over a thousand years old.

East of a great fjord. The sea wipes the nearby cliffs. The salt, slime, & algae coat the rocks of Norway. Off in the distance the villagers wake to a slightly warmer day. The wind whistled through the high norse trees in early June. The bobcat stalks a mouse in a nearby field. The trout flings itself from the cold brook. As the leaves that will manage to cling to the trees branches whispered songs on the wind. As it echoed off the side of the pass. The birds fly in above in the open sky.

The air bubbled with radiating heat from the million pools of poison. The geysers erupt up words. The air was gagging, thick with the poison from the hot springs. There lay a green haze over the valley. As the sun struck down illuminating the every rock. Every rock coated in thick slime. The desert winds howled and attempted to clear the air. But the impenetrable wall of poison prevailed. Through the haze the mass of undead was almost invisible. Their march was constant. They did not sleep they did not eat. They were unrelenting.

The mist hung low in the valley. It blanketed the low rolling hills. To the point where they almost disappeared at night. Yet they were only a stone’s throw away. In the sky the moon hung, A silver orb. It illuminated the low clouds which were a glistening ghostly white yet beyond the moon. Byond that there was a blanket of thick black, pure darkness. One single shaft of light penetrated form the clouds to shine upon an old abandoned farmhouse. Its crumbling walls barely stood. The moon illuminated a long brown cloud that covered most of the rolling hills. In the night a groan of utter eternal pain radiated from a point to the north. Suddenly there was a wall of figures on the horizon. The shambled forward making their cacophony of death. They advanced forward.