Adrift upon the ocean, of hurricanes and sunrise, darkest dusk and heavenly dawn. The waves they grow and crash violently, and they also settle into the oblivion of still water. A black undulating surface is stained with warm golden shimmer, like a dead forgotten realm found once again by a hopeful persistence. Warmth and color fill up the cold dusty cracks and corners of existence, but order and entropy will always dance togetehr, and thus there shall always be a lonely corner waiting for the wings of grace.