Close your eyes. Feel yourself lift off the ground, and venture far into reaches unknown. Come with me, and follow my movements. I will guide you but understand that you will be alone. Soar through the air, you can see it now, can't you? Grey clouds everywhere, as if this was all there was. Venture further, deeper, you have to go downwards. Until the clouds break. Look, you can see it now, a whole land beneath this wall of grey. There is no sun here, and there is no moon, there is no day, and there is no night. There only ever is this. This grey light illuminating the darkest parts of this unknown land.
Let me show you more, I have so much more to show. Look at the forests, lifeless and still. I know it may seem sad, but I cherish it. There's nothing dwelling within them, you may get the occasional crow every now and again, but other than that, there is nothing in them. Watch for the branches, if they grab you, they won't let go.
Land upon the forest floor, next to me. The grass is cool, and the trees sway gently in the wind all around. I'd stay here forever if I could, but I cannot. Nor can you, but we still have time. Here there is endless time. Every tree here has a purpose, and each one has a scar, a scar carved upon their solid bark. Beneath their thick wooden skin, lies flesh and bone, like we have beneath ours. We mustn't linger though. Let us venture past the forest of emptiness, and into the vast field before it.
So much grass, and you can see the coast from here. No waves come crashing upon the shore like on most coasts, here they gently lap against the sand. Sometimes I step into that lake and I float for what feels like centuries on the surface, and sometimes I sink beneath the water. It's cold, but it's somewhat peaceful as well. Like time comes to a stop, and everything outside of you is of no concern. You can just be.
Past the lake, and further beyond, where the field connects with the valley, you can see a lone willow tree in the distance. It's far from the others, I don't know why exactly, but it's comforting. The roots run deep, and all other trees are beyond their grasp. I like to sit here from time to time, and think on things that concern my heart. I can think for a long time beneath their shade. We must fly again now, past the lonesome willow and towards the mountains, housing many derelict ruins. Long forgotten texts and ancient architecture remain untouched and undisturbed. Tunnels run all throughout the mountains, and likely beneath them as well. They're abandoned like most things here, but with me, they are found again.
Past the mountains we come to a cliff, the edge so to speak. The edge of everything, but beyond this edge lays yet another forest. One of pine trees, and to watch over them, sits a statue of a woman, cold to the touch, and cracked in various spots. Her gaze is apologetic almost, as if she is regretful that you too must lay your eyes upon this endless forest. I sing to her on occasion. She won't ever sing back though. For she is made of stone, and I am not.
I'm afraid our time is up. We must fly back from whence we came. We must leave from the lonely statue, and make our way to the forgotten mountains, past the isolated willow, past the deep valley, past the cold lake, past the field where no sun sets nor gives rise, past the forest of emptiness, and back into the embrace of the clouds. Let them take you further now, back to where you came, I cannot go with you, I must stay here. This is where I am from. This place is within my heart. I release you back above the clouds. Close your eyes. Feel yourself back on familiar ground. Open your eyes. Goodbye.