It's liquid midnight bottled in blue,
iridescent sparkles shining through.
It's thick twisting syrup in the sky
layers of secrets underneath lie.

It's hopes and fears battered and bruised,
mystery and madness interfused.
It's between planes-- beautiful and ethereal,
scars of kings taste as imperial.

It's honey dripping from an imaginary comb,
sweet sadness echoing through a suspicious tome.
It's a hot mess of sprinting thoughts,
pain and excitement in empty blots.

It's both extremities in duality,
a crippled fantasy bathed in reality.