We run in the Sun all day to the tunes, our hands grasped tightly like the fierce embrace between mother and child, exploring the rolling plains and smelling the multitude of flowers that decorate the fresh green grass, flourishing in the eternal light of fire and moon.
The tune changes to a show melodious one, and we stop running and turn to the sky, wondering what happened to the cheer of life and the rays that empowered our endless flight into the unknown. As we stand there and wander, we realise that the mournful song is also one of dance, and with our hands still embraced, we begin to waltz slowly, allowing the overpowering music to envelop us in her arms.
We drift slowly from the darkened grass into the soulless unknown, our feet stepping on air as the tune continues. It hurts, but our eyes are closed and our hands are in one another's and the starlight, growing brighter, illuminates the narrow stairway where we tread. Inevitably, we become the stars in the heavens, growing brightly and giving life to the grass and flowers that once loved us, worshiped by none but revered by all.
With our eyes we see them; holding hands and running in our light through the rolling plains and flowers, before we are snuffed out by time.