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.