Follow me through the path that is outlined with violets,
And walk through the woodland door.
Surrounded by these things,
These peculiar things, are the beats of my
Heart, the wings that make it soar.
Allow me to pull you into this deep, dark sea;
An ocean of leaves shading the sunlight, enriching the moors.
Listen to the song of the happy faerie-bird, and follow it's voice
From the wood to the vacant shore.
Among these things, what sense do you make?
For there is earnest, and there is joy, but the
Logic is buried within the song of this moor.
But that is okay,
For it was a choice we thus made,
To trade our sense and reason,
For the appreciation of beauty laying within
The happiness of Season.