The Language Of The World

I long to be free.

To escape the chaos and noise of this wretched existence.

To leave behind the boorish and ill mannered crowds,

And find peace amidst the majestic mountains.

In a cabin nestled deep in the wilderness,

I dream of living in perfect isolation,

To surround myself with the rugged beauty of the land,

And let the raw power of nature soothe my soul.

Here, the language of the world flows with eloquent precision,

As the whispering winds,

The babbling brooks,

And the singing birds all speak in exquisite harmony.

No more would I be bound by the rigid walls of social norms.

No more would I have to force myself to speak hollow words,

Being plagued by conversations devoid of any valuable meaning.

In the mountains, I would find true conversation.

And when the day is done, I'd lie down to rest,

And gaze up at the celestial dome,

And witness the starlight invade it,

Free from the tethers of civilization,

Content to embrace the balm of Mother Nature.

I know this is where my heart truly belongs.