What should we have expected from new ascents?
You think there is simple safety in messages sent?
Melancholic waves descend, lonely veins sink in,
If I was simple before, you'd be able to see,
See through the extremities that bounded me.

But how could a flower begin these internal spins?
Bounded by piety to seek love away from sin,
Destined, we hope that this one will sink in.
If life's a play then this one is just pretend,
And the toil of tragedy, revealed at play's end.

But if this life is an Odysseun ode,
Then oh! the wonders to be told!
For each new ascent, a heroic tale,
On the way down, purified hail.

For we have cast Circe like Jonah's whale,
And fly alongside a dove's tail,
Whose wings spread in glorious white,
Revealing Leila, mistress of the night.

A story about a captivating woman I know and care for:

      The city was dark and desolate, filled with vermin, decayed. She walked down the different lanes of alternative artistic mediums, listening for a place where her soul would find itself.  Empty dilapidated homes, homes that people seemed to have lived in though there was no sign of them; there were no misplaced lawn gnomes.  There were empty clay pots.

      Down a dark alley she found a concave mirror, she stepped into it.  The heavens rumbled and the stars condensed and exploded into black holes and gas giants, the Milky Way sped up its rotation, the sun became brighter, and the Earth was scorched.  Just the order of the day.  Then she stepped out, covered in a sunburst gown, her hair had gone from midnight dark to sunrise bright, she looked back in and smiled.  Just a smirk.  She walked up the dark alley as every step breathed new life into the cold concrete.  The sound of music played.  Flowers and trees sprang up from the cracks, more were created.

   She laughed loudly and from her lips beams of light showered forth onto the cold earth.  She flung her hair back and water shot forth from its motion, the streets flooded.  Two men in a boat, one wearing green the other a light lavender came rowing to her.  He asked her, “Which one do you think is asking? Which one do you think believes?”.  She smiled.  Then she awoke, to find herself on her knees, hands together pointed towards heaven.  All she had to do was ask, what music was playing?

- Life