Keys were taken from us and so we begged them to stay.
The clouds were everywhere and they were black and they were full.
As we sat under the night sun, a hole opened up in the brume and, through it, dog pilots commenced their disputes.
They shot and formed and shot some more until the Weeping Moon rose and the sun wept no more.
Black Tears fled the sky and dyed The Earth's colours blue.
Angel Myst lifted from our souls and bid their shadowy hollows adieu.
Oblivious; perched, we blissfully remained until the Curse of Consciousness in Calamity was later regained.