shades beautifully linger at the end of the line
a grey strand of fate twirls in the vast blue sky sea, bereft of clouds plainly for all to see
an earthly flower comes forth from humble roots, blooming in late winter against common sense
slowly welcoming the thread, entwined by both gloom and faith, incredible feelings bursting forth
a silent dream wakes, unable to communicate the magic experienced by a heart's crumbling side
snowy figures gather to witness, trembling in both cold and fear.
the portal is about to open wide, as wide as the possibility every one of us has to bare
and in time, life slows down, minute by minute, second by second until the moment is frozen.
all to gaze into the cataract of precious images seen by he who dreams, the lord of the one word, the stigma of existence.
from the bloom, a distorted angel is born, a fueled descending, a fall never ending, a being made of prayers never answered
in closer ending, a breaking tendering, a death drum ends a static dream as sorrowful nails are driven into all men's hearts.