Falling from the heavens tears of slate fell in earnest
upon creation all withered in frozen chambers
concealed from the breath of light.

Upon the sunrise all were left but shadows of former
selves. Crimson ash blew in though the winds and the
sky turned like wine all drinking in it subtle taste.  

But then when night fell, all that was but shadow was
reborn under moonlight, dimly lit darkness was like
nectar, ebony shades motioned gorging on onyx.

But then the sun rose and the dance of perpetual eternity
once again faded into to tears of blush coating the sky
in the need to be with the ebbing moments of obscurity.