Long Ago…

It was village name Anistova, in a place far far away from our human imagination.
A place where only cursed dreamers go. The wind was blowing most savagely, without
care, ripping weak vegetation to its doom. Pacthes of dry earth swirled and traveld with the wind, battering one of those many cursed dreamers, that always traveled this way.

With every step he took, in the direction of misery, a tear fell from his cold eyes, unto his frozen cheeks. This dreamer is lost in his world just as many others were. Walking into oblivion, though knowing it, did not care. That is the tragedy of such beings. For they have come so far in such tough times, in the end one small, small, element, cutts them down to what they become, on their journy to Anistova.

——— Yeah Im not a wonderful writer, but Im hoping that this blog will shape up my writing skills