The sky adorns a starry scarf, glistening with the moonlight and the haunting hills hiding in the darkness, waiting for a companion. The air is filled with townsmen dancing to the rhythm of love, as I wait for the air to consume me and make me a part of this euphoria. The garrulous wind enchants me with an unsung lullaby. I soar high. High enough for me to feel the scarf. High enough for the moonlight to shine on my arms. High enough for the hill to feel my warmth. High enough till the world seems like a measly doll-house.