Chapter 2: The violet hill

Silence stood still above the violet hills, siblings fought and laughed together to echoes of love. Lies were fair to protect the truth and joy drizzled there in the sunlight while at night, silence visited every house – there was melody in that silence too.
Over the outspread roads of Roman marble, lovers danced and poets dreamed; passers glanced and children screamed. The mystic lore of violet hills far from the circus of earth and its clowns, devoid of corrupted sanity and vile shadows. It cradled there alone in tranquillity, broken souls would heal there by some unseen miracle whose presence can only be felt in the wind that flew there. There were no webs binding anyone’s minds; brothers or sister, friends or lovers – all and everyone kept an open heart, like a book with different stories both beautiful and ugly. Nobody was perfect there but the imperfection was alluring in itself, there was a touch of art in those faults like many different colorful paints spilled randomly upon a white canvas. It was a place for wanderers, seekers, the dreamers and explorers, for those who no longer wish for a role in this circus, for those who want to burn the muddled loop of life and start anew. Violet hill wasn’t a paradise or some fairy land, it was a home where angels and demons, drank and danced together.


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