Someday, flowers will rain all over town. The perennial blossoms will cover every thatched roof of this medieval squalor. Who knows, a fairy tale might just emerge out of all of this.
But until then, we shall toil and smolder beneath the sun: it's orange tentacles a force that secretes the sweat of every bowed head; and watch the wind hover in the horizon as it gallops across the blue canvas.
Someday, we'll know. Eventually.