The word was silent yet. - Word on the wind

Cold mountain tops rose above the green plains on the world, the morning sun dancing in the scattered shadows of winters chill morning. Clouds effortlessly moved by overhed, sailing through the heavens of the sky. Trees stood naked and silently waved their arms in greeting to the wind that brought news from lands afar, gave voice to the sadness of the last night, which all realised, and all dreaded.

And the land was silent yet.

Streams ran into rivers, and the gentle gushing of a spring awoke the frozen waters that spilled onto the banks of reeds that engulfed the neverending cycle. Birds sat in their nests, not singing to the risen dawn, not talking, for the wind had passed them by.

And the land was silent yet.

Minutes flowed into hours, and the wind carried its word to all it met,and all were sad. Children that morn did not laugh or play, and time did seem to stop. Nobody could ever hope to lament this, for they held in silent mourning for her.

As winter had come at last, and the Evenstar in Lorien lay.

For what was her love, but a dream?

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