Shadows Lost

The world turns letting the present move into the shadows as the past shines anew in a different mask, becoming the present. Peace dies to let war live again and war dies again to bring forth peace. What is lost is found and what is found is forgotten...
A castle stands defying the waters encroaching upon its once verdant plains, a sea of grass that has become weeds. The foundations have been gnawed at by the ever-starving winds that now cry out through the shadowed skies and hollow forests.
Each stone stands as a reminder of what was, calling memories of men to walk as shades among its vine-mounted ramparts. Looming towers arise, dying sentinels over a lost domain. Rusted goblets, broken candlesticks, and weathered chairs are strewn about the castle's dusty halls, each piece telling of a grand banquet long ago when mirth and laughter alighted these dim corridors. The echoes of those days become soft wails speaking of valor, of lore, and of great sorrow...
An old mill stands on the edge of a nearby forest slowly creeping upon it waiting to swallow it whole. Light breezes trapped by tattered wind-catchers rock the decaying husk of the forgotten towers. Rain slowly pours down from the skyward abyss, rolling a shadowed fog over the down-trodden land...
A village watchs as thunder booms and lightning flares, ravaging the countryside. In moments the raging winds die, and the sky squeezes out one last raindrop. The withered world becomes still. Light, life-giving and wonderous, pours down in golden rays upon the silent settlement, calling forth the weary. Renewed vigor and love clutch each of their hearts raising a festival, a feast for joy and life that laughs long and sings with a strengthened voice.