A little far from existence, and a few steps behind the unknown lies a green plain.
It stretches for miles, behind the hills, and across the river, popular for the demons it had slain.
It remains solitary, reaping its own affection, though disregarding nobody;
For the delightful lad, the lady, and much to the pleasure of the man in yellow coat who came to study.
It would be hidden well behind the clouds, pleasuring itself from its seclusion, never complaining.
It would be seen by many, in mutual agreements, but discovered only by the bird who would stretch its wing.
Vivid as it is, abstracting everything around;
For those who were noticing, it would resonate every sound.
Here Angels are seen, now and then.
In different forms, some bleeding from the pen.
Those who called it a home till eternity,
For them it bloomed joy in the green plain, away from the city.
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