Flawed pebbles lay adrift, absent from home, scattered along the eternal path through the disorientated mind of the night’s weeping Forest.

Each step put forth on this winding dirt ridden path prickles at your feet and relinquishes a pulse of hopeless withering energy throughout the complex network of dormant life within.

The reverberation of deceased leaves and pale twigs souls drifting away echoes onwards into the gloomy aeonian darkness as their remnants are mercilessly trampled over.

Towering Silverwood trees seem to cry out in pain and torment as a thick stench of vengeful rotting blood from there fallen brethren deviously seeps its way into the unsuspecting fleshy bodies of those it can find hidden within the ever-expanding walls of the Forest, staining their minds with a suffocating fear, causing oneself to manifest noetic conceptions of pure devilish intent, its the Forests way of warning you to turn back, that you are not welcome here, each step further stolen along this traumatizing path through the Forest causes your sanity to get further infested, the Forest now beckoning you, as reality and fiction start to blur while you gradually deteriorate.

Now the Forest is full of fictional life, visions modeled in the mind projected into reality, your deepest fears now appear before you, the only thing guiding lost travelers such as you is the dimming light of a frightful dying moon.

A jagged acidic flavor infects your helpless tongue, traveling down and throughout your fragile body, paralyzing what’s left of your senses.

The last thing you feel is the serrated claws of an icy wind digging deep into your defenseless vessel, the slender fingers of the Forest clamping around your heart, tearing it out. Your vision fails, with the Forest closing in around you; cold wisping shadows whisper you into a deep-set inescapable slumber.

You awake sometime later to the serene sensation that is the gentle touch of a warm afternoon, the Forest that was once so menacing and uninviting has now been resurrected, brimming with life.

Where there was once a deathly silence there is now an orchestra of natures most intricate lullabies, birds chirp with perfect harmony while the glowing silver wood trees jubilantly conversate and gossip.

The Forest has been transformed into a blissful sanctuary, surrounded by a bright cobalt blue aura of divine protection.

A fragrance, once of vengeful intent, now emanates a perfume that can only be described as some sort of brilliant kitchen sink combination of a freshly mown lawn, a large cool glass of peach ice-tea; the color yellow, and utter tranquility.

Critters flurry throughout the Forest and along the now hope-filled path, each with there own story and destination, ecstatically communicating with not only each other, but the Forest itself.

Your head leisurely lays upon a blanket of welcoming floral, while your body is securely held and protected by the Forests graceful touch.

Your taste buds experience a brisk, sweet taste of honeydew blowing in on an afternoon wind.

You feel at peace in the Forests tranquil environment, as you glaze into a peaceful nap.