Of rolling hills and thundering waves
Of reddened paint in hardened caves
Of ghosts that came to play
Of the pillars: ancient and towering trees
Of the sickly saplings they came to be
Of ghouls that yearned for pay
Of broken thorns and broken flags
Of parents sleeping beneath white rags
Of a history that never got a say
"Oh, to what do we deserve this fate?
Except to be here before the arriving date?"
A/N Not sure if I'll keep it as is or if I'll edit it in the future, but leaving it unfinished nagged me so I gave it my best attempt. Not sure if I like how I continued/ended it yet.