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I had this idea from someone who started a story, and I thought of my own and took it a little more seriously.

Like distant gales, crashing against monstrous rocks, you could hear lands screaming for your ears to follow, like following the buffalo hooves across the ground or the train hurrying it's way toward the beetle crossing over the railroad beams. These little lands were made for different children locked in bloody vessels, or deeper tunnels and road ways only they could grasp onto.

Keep up with the story. :)
For the record I'm a good writer not great so..... keep laughing to a minimum please :wink:

At a distance these lands appear to be but a mere whisper, tempting one to come forth and let lose of all prejudices. Giving into the euphoria seems within grasp, only a few tremble filled steps in front of you. Doubt soon crosses your mind like an unsuspecting insect about to have his fate decided on an unknown windshield. Could this be true? Could this be the jubilation I have sought so diligently through all those painful and fruitless years that haunt me like ever stalking shadow. In an act of perhaps ignorance or blind desperation I finally settle on these little islands and the view already brings my restless turbulent soul to long sought harmony. :unsure:
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