An open eye, a time of misery, The sound of the Earth, An ear to the cacophony. The sight of unanswered questions.
An odour, of the fragrance, of beauty, without reason. A smell of, souls waiting to be sufficed, a state of havoc, and melancholy.
A touch of hope, A feeling, so vague, so soft, the lenience of the soul. A thought to the weak.
A taste of fire, the ash to the walls, of endless arrows, of words, with no meaning, but of great value, and unending power. Smoke, the denouncing of denouement and demise.
A treat to the senses, A flash of truth. It is my cue to live, Living a lie. This is my time, My lovelorn morning.