Watch the morning turn to night,
Watch the restless birds take to flight,
  Pull down the curtain of transgression,
Your sins can be the confessions and thorough impression.
   They will remember you,
    All you have done and what you didn't do.

Despair lays in the wake of disaster,
Much less the years after it's alabaster slate is slowly waning,
Slowly evaporating.
Drape the curtain over our eyes,
What we see if the prize.

alas, The snow covers our trails and ash covers our corpse.
We lost to heaven at the torch,
For many times forgettable.
Melt away the snow and sweep away the ashes.

Oblivion craves yet resilience staves

Often does the sun shine to spread its vibrant rays,
Upon the Stoney, marble surface of those whose souls had to stay.
Pay homage to these fellow men who cannot move and will not rend,
Tell from these names who had passed before their time,
Inevitable date when which their souls were confined.
The ground never sleeps nor will it ever stop,
Passive aggression transition to a morose retention.
We all know it true, not even blood will stop its rage.
When the clock goes to ticking, our lives will stop and fade.
Take in the dark suns low-light days, compare it to a bashful way.

Watery depths to sink in like stones, relishing the moments as gold wears down and folds.
Take this epitome of life and flush the blood out, the snow white complexion seemingly calmed down.
White gold mixes with bronze, bronze to mix with steel. This makes an alloy no stronger than it feels.
Quiet silence, sudden outbreaks, what happens to these souls when their love washed away.
Rush up to the wooden box, to be buried under the snow.
Push those regretful tears away, filled with sorrow and woe.
Put down those hands upon white cloth, resting onto the black attire to reminisce on the moment with loss

Fear of absolution, relishing of hindrance.
  A wall of black, darkness that rests within
  To fall under blistering defeat to reiterate the blood red scrolls of sin.

Decimate remains of a hallowed grave,
  Torment and desire to those who strayed.
Falter under knowledge of an atrocious cause,
Beg for the black widow to hear you call.

Succumb to the temptation of a lustrous quintessence,
  Grasp at the hot wind of a deserts blast.
Underestimate the repudiation of the reserved contrast,
To be forever forgotten, but to always last.

Stare at the universe for a little while, you’ll see
Something resembling you and me: a quite sobbing vacuity
Draining all pellucid stars of luster and bravery.
I won’t be home for the rest of my life, hard as it is to take in,
Something went missing in what never was
That all the timbers strip away at the passing years
In anger and patience that slapped me in the face
When I said I’d never be happy again. My pockets are full
Of icy penance for crimes distance and apathy revealed.
Shimmer do the walks ways in the missing parts of the night sky
Shaped, somehow, by you and every blazing heart
Is a comet to earth: ******* vibrantly a poorly strung bandage.
And every light to cross the concourse of hopeless prophesy
And my constructs of relative suffering, an oil-light suicide.
History is always-already the behest of malignancy, but it’s sweet
The protection as I’ve weaponized every interaction to be,
We could have been cause-and-effect and danced like
Idols, gods, and fools in the sky of our experience, but
The God of Small Things, I, bear down on dis-eases rejection.
Like surgery, the tiny cells bereft of the cause of blood, the cause
Of complaint, can do nothing but new hearts reject.