Mountain Scene

A metaphor for recent betrayal and renewal...

The morning sun rises

Casting golden shadows upon the lake...

Birds flap their sleep-bearing wings

Trill their morning tunes.

 

The river gushes crystal clear

Glinting like a thousand silver coins

Ah, peace in the air.

Beauty and tranquility.

 

The fish splash upriver

The turtles sigh and move in the lake.

Birds and butterflies try their wings

There's a common tune they sing.

 

They sing about the fire and darkness

That slowly faded away to emptiness

Then trees began to grow from the earth

Turning the place into a young haven.

 

Slowly, life begins to reappear

The birds and the fish, they've seen everything.

How spring brought new flowers and summer warm light,

How fall brought flaming leaves and winter cold flakes.

 

But life lives on.

Forever encased in time willingly.

Life cannot be more blissful

Than here.

 

The fish splash upriver.

The turtles sigh and move in the lake.

Birds and butterflies try their wings

They're a common tune they sing.

 

They sing of beauty, wonder, and grace

They sing of the horror of the past erased.

The darkness to the light.

It's a haven which they live in.

 

It wasn't always like that.

A tune of mourning, betrayal.

Ah, the fire and the darkness!

Why do they remember?

 

There was a haunting beauty to the flames

Nothing, nobody, can ever describe.

The sunlight was well, and the moonlight calm

Nothing could be more blissful.

 

But then came betrayal.

Fire upon darkness upon horror.

Then a black anger.

Sadness. Ice.

 

But the forest was quick to recover.

Does it need those flames? No.

There had been an illusion to them, the flames.

Under happiness was an evil.

 

The flames are gone now.

The forest treats them like it has never happened.

Perhaps, the forest's a little marred...

But soon the wound shall completely vanish.

 

And soon the flames will be wiped

Wiped away from memory.

It's not like fire will care.

Fire doesn't have feelings.

 

Ah, the tune of morning.

Morning and mourning,

Beginnings and grief.

From grief a beginning arises.

 

Turn against those flames,

Mountain scene.

Turn against the illusion.

Treat it like it had never happened.

 

As if the flames will care.

As if I will care.

If one shall betray.

Morning flutters on.

 

The sun rises,

Warming us to our hearts.

Trees have other trees.

Fire, a cruel force.

 

Fire won't care.

Fire has its own friends.

Life is this mountain scene.

The mountain is me.