Fallenstars Winning Entry

 
Soft heard music echoes through the land,
As people of Mystica slowly with winter stir.
A growing sound in the wind o'er sand,
And throughout places that expreience cold most bitter.
 
'Tis the sound of bells and singing,
The chorus of hundreds celebrating anew.
From the mountaintops its ringing,
Cannot be be mistaken for 'tis true.
 
A time of joy and laughter is hear,
Let not one soul be forgot.
'Tis a time of sharing with those dear,
A time of peace so often sought.
 
So as the joyous singing pass,
Be reminded that it is Mistmas!