367 Tears

The crown prince of Hum had lost himself in the intoxicating smell of his drink, his world now a clash of vibrant visuals and obscure concepts. He seemed to have lost himself in the world where grass grew in moments and life flourished in rivers of milk, where honey dripped from trees and the concepts of beauty and peace merged together to form angels with the sole purpose of giving him their love.

The blue skies were filled with Sol birds, dancing in the distance. Fairies formed communities in trees and the wind carried within it the sound of laughter always. It was heaven, for the world was perfect, and it was hell, because it was forever out of reach.

His eyes still shut, the crown prince moved the cup to his lips and took a single sip. As refreshing as the morning dew, the spirit sat in his mouth, refreshing all of his senses. He savored the soft flavor for a while but he finally drank.