Echo of Silence : Enclave

Four ways to go.
Probably even more, if I wanted.
Here, at this crossroads.
Surrounded by non-human things.

The roads themselves are mere tracks.
The stones along them are untouched.
The skies above them clean.
What have we done?

These streams clearly rustling,
These rocks bathing in the sun,
These grasses waving in endless shapes,
These tops around me…

I finally came to understand…
Beauty is misunderstood.