The sun is setting blissfully and subtly touching the branches on this hill. A flood of color is emerging from heaven and enveloping the world in heat. All I am on this hill is a part of the grass. Broken by the wind, and taken by the rush of beauty. All I am on this hill is and was, and will be. And it is alright. Because mother nature is resting her head. Enlightening the world in an overpowering aura. For a second malice is nonexistent evil is unheard of, and every piece of good seems part of this day, so fragrant. All I am, on this hill is a stranger glancing at the light.