And so I walked down slope,

Sun to the back, rays of hope?

Perhaps, perhaps.

For this journey, I consulted many maps,

Acquiring some of which got me many slaps,

But t'was worth the pain.

And so, as I reached the Western Plain,

Did it begin to rain,

Absolutely lovely.

For I enjoyed it verily,

Did it most certainly,

No sarcasm here.

Yet criticising weather remains unfair,

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Rain here, Sun there;

Such is the nature of life.

I missed my wife,

Most terribly; with pain I was rife,

Would my children grow without me?

The hills ended, flat land to see,

Soldiers collecting the Lord's fee,

In flesh and gold.

I remembered what I was told,

When on this mission I was sold,

Bypass the fields and head to town.

I recalled the thought with a frown,

Inane paper pushers made me a clown!

Why?

Why, to myself did I lie?

I thought with a sigh,

How did I delude myself?

A man bringing pain to himself,

Like a fat one grabbing food off all shelfs,

Can only be considered to be of weak reasoning.

And as such was continuing,

My introspection and thinking,

I arrived on the outskirts of Alta Mirah.

The city strangely silent, no shouts, no hurrahs,

No shouts of a vendor, "Fair price, Sirrah";

My spine shivered.