The beauty is in the mess of it all
the purest moments
unravel
when ones treacherous walls
begin to fall

The source isn't angelic or heavenly
one can seem devilish or deadly
light emerges from the darkest of landscapes
one must find their faith
for the glowing ones
are dark glittering souls
Whom once fell down the depths
of a never-ending black hole

Looks deceive those blinded by the all encompassing white light
One must not be scared, one must let go of the fright

Appreciate the gloomy hours
dance in the heaviest of showers
inhale the scent emerging
from the rarest of flowers
For the beauty is in
the mess of it all