Water trickling in the brooks
Flowing slowly through winding nooks.
Upon the banks, armed with a book
I see the route why Nature took.

Pristine and pure, untouched by men
The wilds and earth, the hills and sand.
Know this is Nature's vision of our land:
Defending against cities and civilised hands.

Falling leaves in autumn rain
Upon the fields where I had lain.
A reminder of times when peace had reigned
Nature - free, too, of necromantic taint.



Penned by my hand on the 25th of Sarapin, in the year 587 AF.