In a valley far away, virgin to the procelain form of modernization, peace dwell side by side with the humankind. Sitting under a barren tree, an old white beard hermit tells the green valley old stories of life, long gone by.
When the rain pours, the lush mountains stare stonily at the sky. A sigh of monsoon escapes from the dry soil, hungry for the ample water which was much awaited.
While the meaning to life grew no more, good old traditions remain shattered, words lost its meaning and so has life turned around. Along with it, so did the universe. Never to remain the same again, there is no looking back now. Life often looks at the universe, and the universe caresses the soul that lives the life. Protecting it from all evil, may no harm ever befall it.
The sunny valleys soughts for the open sea, for mountains creates a closing for it to spread free. The thirsty tide runs inland, washes away all forms of misery that every man has known or is yet to know.
Deep in snow the laboring hands of a mother can not support the burden of being a woman. Under the stars, under the same sky, the laughter of a maiden so fair can be heard not very far away from the mother who has succumbed to being a sadist. Low whispering at an appointed hour, both sing songs from the heart. The mother sings a lullaby to her hungry child while the girl sing songs for her lover lost in war.
Far away from the two misery queens, the eagle descends to speak to the mountains. The pine trees sway to the rhythm of the cool breeze. In a distance, there stands a peach tree, its blossoms glitter like the midnight stars. The velvet sky spreads out for the moon to make its way. And the people beneath it look up in awe, so in love with the moonlight
