Celestial cataracts, tunnel-visions of the Gods
Gossamer glory and rusted revelations
Ruins upon ruins upon ruins, on the brink of ruin
Catastrophic license, divine influence
Be merciful to the self... Above All Else

Micing conch shells and waiting for instructions
I was drowning in silence
Listening to the fog
Fuzzy-eyed and supine
Staring at the bottom of the sky
Where the shade tastes like sea breeze
And the soul flashes its sailfeathers