There is a girl.

She sits in the meadow, alone.

She waits,

but what is she waiting for?

There is only wind

and grass

and the cloudless, blue sky.

There is a dove.

He lives in the meadow. 

This meadow of calm and peace.

He was all alone,

in this meadow of calm and peace.

Until he met the girl.

But beyond the meadow,

in the dark, dark forest

of gnarled trees and broken dreams

there is a crow.

He is waiting.

Waiting for a chance.

A chance.

To capture the girl.

And to capture her heart.