Islands of Mystery

From the rolling plains
The man can see
As you or I
But won’t believe.
He traverses
Past the fields,
Entering forests
Covered in shadows.
Till the traveler,
Breathing heavy
Breaks through the barriers
Revealing mountain terrain.
Climbing the cliffs
Covered with copses
And withered and deteriorating
The traveler climbs
Till breathing heavier,
Summit is achieved
But in the distance
Our traveler sees
Some speckled islands
And he is wondering...
“What is there to see,
On those islands of mystery?”