"materialized" poems
Better Philippines.. Go Federalism Now!
R oad to a new Republic of the Philippines
o nward to the era of Federalism government
d ays are gone when power is handled by the few
r ich pen become richer and the poor even poorer
i t's time our country will be run by a man with a vision
g overn the Philippines according to the will of the majority
on the basis of basic rights and privileges as local citizens.
R eal leader is someone who stands for the people
o n the realization of their basic needs and ambitions
and who leads by example and can implement the laws.
D uterte is the man of the hour
u nder Federalism form of government
t he local government can obtain bigger budget
e xtracted from its own income and tax collection
r ealistic projects of the LGU can be materialized
t hen better and faster urbanization will implemented
end the corruption and criminality, support the President!
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
Regret washes over in oceans,
Drenching a hot head with
Unholy sorrow and disgust;
Time reigns over as Almighty Queen
Who casts a permanent chill over
The land, the mirrors, the soul.
The molten mistakes cool solid
In the prison of our brains—
Forever materialized, measured, weighted.
A prideful ego never dies—
It's only masked by alibis.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
Moving amidst my Ramona chapter books,
I make out your movement, M, the moody turns
Of your mounts and valleys, the moniker of
Family names, you marked me like a maternal
Emblem of the generation’s matriarch,
You mingled amid reminiscences of former matrons
Maria Helena from the Midwest,
Who crossed the mountains in a wagon,
Madeleine, a migrant from Marseilles,
Who baked warm loaves in San Francisco,
And her own daughter, my Mimi,
Who muttered merde while she drank martinis.
In my own time, you materialized in
Marjorie, my nana, and Maria, my mom,
The women in which I knew you growing up,
Then Molly, who made dreams out of
Magic and Movies and Marie Antoinette,
You embellished my most favorite things.
In my monogram, you aimed my impulses
in your masts’ diametric directions
Towards competence, towards imagination.
In your middle ‘s mysterious compartment I make snug
With magazines and novels and mugs of hot milk.
You nuzzled me in moments of melancholy, then motivated me
To meander among your fundamental family,
The sumptuous L of melt and mélange,
The meticulous N of man or monk or money.
Even W, which matches your mien in mirror
It warped wicked witch while you
Milled maidens and damsels, so I imagined
The mutilation of those two majuscules formed
My image of womanhood. M, Molly Smithson materialized
From a meek mademoiselle into the mistress of mischief.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
Love and power.
Bodies materialized.
Bodies that matter.
Pariah.
Pariah, on the subway train.
Pariah, speaks in her ugly name.
She is power: Pariah.
She is love.
Pariah.
She is power.
Pariah.
She is this:
Matter.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 3:15 PM UTC
As a student you hold a pen,
Just so very often.
Hold it carefully and take its care,
For it can get broken.
Threading all the letters beautifully,
Cursive you write so neat.
We complement each other,
That too so well.
You need polishing just a bit more,
I need a lot of it.
Earlier my handwriting used to be worse,
But now it has improved as you have come.
Come and write your name,
Not on paper but on my arm.
Come now and come closer to me,
This feels like a dream materialized.
Now that Both have chosen The Best,
I am just glad that we chose each other.
I look at your handwriting,
It means the world to me dear.
When your heart is so beautiful,
Your handwriting is also gorgeous.
Yeah you saw my handwriting,
It is not like your elegant one.
So I am content that our children'll have beautiful handwritings.
Your handwriting tells me that you're innocent,
It also showcases a beautiful heart which I love.
Capitalize on your boon of good handwriting,
Success beckons you and now you just need to study sincerely.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC
We sat,
******* the shreds
Of chicken
From our teeth,
In a cloud of smoke
From tempers flared
That burned to the quick.
The record spun,
The needle stuck
In the endless
Circle groove
At the disc's
Center, but
Neither of us
Moved.
We didn't change
The record,
We didn't
Shut the
Player off.
We sat,
And watched our
Fingers and toes
Evaporate.
We looked on
As the
Room dissolved,
We made no pleas,
Or any noise at all
As our world
Was erased.
In the eggshell light
Of our rebirth
The seasons passed,
With no attention
Paid, like
Sudanese children,
Left to collect sunlight
In the pores of their flesh,
Are ignored
By their God.
The air was a sea
Of vibrations,
Writhing and alive
In the periphery
Of our perceptions.
Do you remember
How it felt to
Be reconstructed?
Cell by cell
We came together,
Our blood vessels
And lymphatic tunnels
Wove through
Tendrils of bone
And wisps of
***** tissue,
Our nerves snaked
Their way through
The jungle of our
New-found existence,
A supercomputer
Materialized within
Each of us,
And they began
Discovering themselves
And each other.
We had arrived prematurely,
And our flames
Were snuffed out
In the claustrophobic
Incubators.
Here we now sit,
White noise
Filling the void,
Waiting for
Something we'll
Never see
Come to be,
But can't avoid.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 11:54 PM UTC
Idol worshipping is alien to my mindset,
I have still found her - my feminine idol,
Someone who I love and respect as well.
She is the mother of God who I'd honour,
Not just 'til I live but even after my death,
Girl of my dream she's the girl of my life.
Someone who I let eradicate my tension,
I am lucky to have her enticed to my life,
Idol of my dreams is materialized in her.
I wait till she fills the void in my real life.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 6:49 AM UTC
I endured spiritual time dilation in life's stasis field,
held to a course you unwittingly set for us 40 years ago.
Back then, I knew instictively you were my beacon,
never doubted I should follow blindly, without question,
even when I lost sight and only drifted the cosmos,
always the gyroscope spinning in my head
whispered, She's still out there, leading.
So, I absorbed whatever light filtered in,
performing some manner of karmic photosynthesis,
noxious vapors escaping, replaced by vital oxygen,
a mere algae amongst humanities' phytoplankton.
And when the time-space coordinates aligned,
you re-materialized, as you'd always been there,
my sister, my spirit-guide, my love.
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 2:49 AM UTC
The Sun Is Shining Today
The Storm Has Finally Stopped
a statement says:
<we have done something yesterday
nothing like our best
just something
to stop that storm>
the statement returns true as fact
inconsequent gestures of nature
we weave
to serve an unknown wish
-made of numerous physical and non-physical senses-
so that fabric of a network
evolves itself
materializes sense
sense to fabric
fabric to sense
scientifically improbable it remains
an infinitesimal loop
unwinds when you are not there
runs within an ideally operating closed circuit
remains invisible to the factual eyes of daily lives
an etheric vitality
materialized by our definable senses of touch, of smell, of see, of taste
and some of yet undefined ones
- possibly assigned to maybe a Poetic Variable-
executable within that program of simultaneous causalities only.
So then Only then
When You Combine the patchy Network
of Things
of Beings
You Can Dance Them
Sing Them
Play Them
Make Love To Them
Become One With Them
Compose Them
but
All these on condition that
it remains as an unpacked gift
Without telling to Yourself
or to Others
or to That Storm
because
You Don’t Even Have An Intention To Stop The Storm
All you do is Wish for Sunshine so you can maybe bike tomorrow
But again
How important is it really that biking tomorrow ?
I mean when sighs and cries whirl around?
a statement says:
<you can’t stop wars by fights>
the statement returns true as fact
And
if I know that
you can stop storms by touches
touches to smells
smells to lights
lights to metals
metals to elements
elements to stars
stars to flights
flights to a breeze on my fingertips
breeze on my fingertips to an auric kiss
then
I think maybe it is **** important to keep a seemingly futile wish to bike to a beach of my dreams tomorrow
so that I can be blown away on a broken December day
and let my long hair collect dune corrals made of cosmic ray
Huh So Yeah
I can Stop Storms if I want to or Create Some!
- not because I need to for my own sake or think about it.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
*Golden Light Was Poured Into My Eye,
As It Enveloped My Shaking Fingers.
It Wrapped Around My Hoarse Voice,
As Though It Were An Elegant Scarf,
Keeping Me From The Cold.
The Light Found Itself Inside Of Me,
Sweeping Away The Dust Of Despair;
Ridding Me Of The Shadows Lurking
Behind My Heart.
Beams Poured Into My Mind,
Slicing Through The Grime And Grit
Of The Moments Which Chose To
So Selfishly Define Me.
Colors Emerged From My Parted Lips,
The Hues Which Have Been Treasured
Memories Of Autumn And Evenings.
A Metamorphosis Had Occured.
I Materialized From A Gray Husk
With Brilliant, Shimmering Wings.
I Am Radiant.
I Am Jubilant.
I Am Reborn.*
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
the skull and spine of seventy seven men, extracted.
retribution far past putrefaction.
a pile of bones in the center of town, at the corner of washington
& rochambeau.
gather around.
do you believe in the boogeyman?
a glitch in the darkness.
an echo of rage, high chroma bacteriophage.
every faithless father,
every sister spared,
every ritual sung just right, a brief blackout,
reconfigured pixels of outer night.
[bobby’s sega genesis awakens on its own]
thirty three years to the day, he
died on that suncrest boulevard, returned today just to say “hey.”
graveyard family tree and the moon.
first as a manifestation of electromagnetic phenomena
in a videogame’s cpu. 1993.
second as a fully-fledged entity materialized via videocassette,
hungry for pizza and pure vengeance. 2001.
third from beneath bedrock, the quarry belly baste,
a body buried thrice, undead toxic tumescence,
a walking corpse heaving black plasma. 2020.
the sequel.
the son.
the spectral chosen one, he
rips out a throat or two, quite fashionably so,
a man about town throttled and disemboweled,
as friends and neighbors stumble and sprint to escape with their own godforsaken skin.
let the bone collection begin.
emerged in afterschool hallways to **** old classmates turned teachers.
emerged in afterhours offices to devour old buddies turned bankers.
emerged in the quiet dark homes of neighborhood flesh and folk.
blood soaked socks.
why? you ask, must all these people die?
vengeance? no.
that was a lie.
he killed those people for a laugh
& that’s that.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
Enter: Insecure like your neighbor's router.
The girl next door vs. an identity crisis
Caught in the torment of her name
Konfusion
The Konstantine of your dreams
In a nightmare of reality
The relationship
She fell out of
To follow a polluted path
To become
A misled materialized martyr
After
He says to her,
Something misogynistic
about her role
Or what he thinks he can control
To put her in her place
She's just a pawn on his chessboard
Never a Queen he should be fighting for
Using her body as a human shield
to avenge his own shadows
Exploited.
This is their daily
He's the blade
And she's the self-harm
Tracing the anti-battlescars
Writing love on her arms
Just when the knife couldn't cut any deeper
Somewhere between
Too far
And fillet o' soul
She had enough
but didn't break
Just felt her ego pull
Broken/Free
She packed her eternal baggage
And hit the runway
Running on the emptiness inside.
Fueled by frustrations
To keep the fire burning
Before she doused herself in the elixir
A hungry ghost
purging patience
In spite of everything
Soon to be made up
And lined up for the onslaught
Led to slaughter what dignity she has left
She says, "Oh, but I'll show him now. I'm not his precious little prize"
...
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC
Like continents moving the skin off from over me , slowly..
deliberately with great force on the rest of my being ,
each aspect of myself emerges anew
from the cocoon like first layer of childhood ,
i see myself spiral from the snakeskin left on the floor
a forge is in it’s place
of molten liquid energy running along my meridians.
Serenading every judgement of another character with love shine ,
fresh from the gardens of mine
that bathe
by the sea air
in my root chakra layer... mingles ,
with the heart echo arrow
i send it with.
Known; that the judgements of others are a side product of judgement of self.
Be it , through the eyes of a hopeful parent or a tired teacher , a pig or a nit.... an angel or specter himself -
None equal as true, to the eyes i see through
on the matter my being is composed of.
Integrating stillness in my vivacious bones , conscious movements flow , stabilizing the unknown into the known , materializing the un-materialized subconscious realm.
Moving through visible reality shifts and mind rifts , exploring
the astral world around me
whilst moving through physical boundaries of borders
Developing organs in my subtle body .
Manifesting my foundations for stamina.
What a joy it is to live from the heart.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
Every hour of every day,
In some clichéd way,
I think of you
At least twice.
I’m a friend,
I know.
You say it too much,
It chafes me raw.
Are you really that dense?
Or maybe it’s a ruse,
A system you’ve devised
To keep me at bay,
Because you just don’t feel
The same way.
I’m crazy about you,
I admit,
If you saw me now,
You’d recognize the guilt,
Brightly scrawled across my face,
Like a neon sign:
The coffee, the talks, the long walks?
All excuses,
Preambles for profound, passionate **********
That never materialized.
I don’t think it ever will.
Adieu! Farewell my friend,
I wish you all of life’s best,
I’ll cross the sea to forget you and rest,
Sail somewhere faraway,
Like Portugal or Paraguay.
Then,
On a lonely afternoon,
You’ll phone for yet
Another friendly talk,
Expecting me – your anchor, your rock,
Steam will blow out your ears hissing:
‘She is missing! She is missing!’
Will you sigh and say,
‘Ah! My Love has gone away’?
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 3:05 PM UTC
I've never felt so cold as when you taught me how to feel-
As each stagnant second pushes
The great pulsating vibrato of life
Further and further into
Yesterday,
Until nothing is left but memories
And stale tap water in a ceramic coffee cup:
The trembling scale by which we measure happiness
That is only felt after it becomes a memory.
Who determines the expiration date
Of emotion?
Your warm pulsating skin
And the hottest month in August
Can only be felt in photo albums
And subtle murmurs only heard
Past 3am.
I never meant to get this caught up
In life-
Breathing in the bitter reality
Of fragmented testimonies
Warning me of what's to come
And fragility of time.
Selfishly I **** the marrow out of
Every fleeting moment,
Scattering the bones across the graveyard of my unrequited mind-
A self proclaimed martyr of suffering
And good intentions.
The confinement of my sordid thoughts,
Condenses reality,
Into the tangible.
Freedom is only felt
In the aftermath of an earthquake-
Crumbled barriers now bear remnants of security.
Is this how it is to feel?
The nerves in my finger tips
Are hot and trembling, as I trace the
Faded outline of something too real
To ever be strained out into the world
Of the living.
Time and time again, I remind myself
Of the ineptitude of anything
That isn't born
Within the sacred hours of
Insomnia.
A distorted image scatters across my empty mind,
Casting shadows on the times where
Nothing mattered beyond the moment.
Life breathes in and out
To the rhythm of the broken record
That we relentlessly cram
Into our vacant hearts,
As if trying to drown out the hollow drone
Of the love
Manufactured in Sunday night sitcoms and materialized on Broadway.
Simple actors, we betray our inner wishes,
And sell them in the form of words
To a greedy audience, yearning to be reassured
That they aren't the only ones who mistake pain for something
Pure.
Time and time again,
I repeat my cynical mantra
Through the motion of my feet upon the ground;
Because, history repeats himself
Until emotion can no longer tread
The freezing waters of existence,
Leaving nothing but a trace of
Something that we foolishly lament with the names of a lover,
And drape with the revealing veil of time-
Mistaken for the truth,
And worshiped at the alter of God.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 10:14 AM UTC
(the hours in between)
It is the morning after reuniting, wining and talking...the stirring of the curtains transparent, become slow moving hands and calming whispers of a hypnotist, blending perfectly with the gentle whiff of a breeze...and the soft sounds of one who has just woken...a hint of a breath of life...there is much gratitude.....these early morning whispers could still be heard...quietude is a swaying hammock, but sleepy eyes peep through the window, gazing far, enthralled by the horizon...red, orange, purple.....merging.....against green and brown of the mountains...and from all these mix of colors, finally emerges a sky so blue...a new day is born, the Almighty is most kind...but something else unsettles the mind of one who has gone through many arduous journeys...asking:
"How did I fare"? Can I still...? Will I...?"
Now shining bright is a list of
Things yet to happen...intentions---
Disguised as questions.
Though this has long been conceptualized,
There's this pressing feeling, they must now be prioritized
Pray they soon be realized
Before exit from this world has materialized.
Can I still -
Be brave enough to swim? drive a car? ride a bike?
Meet with distant friends? learn new languages?
Write with more depth, even when I turn 80... and older?
Fly in a plane with my son as the pilot in command?
See my granddaughters finish college?
Will I still be able -
To satisfy this wanderlust endlessly stirring within me?
To ride a camel in the deserts of Morocco?
To feel the sun, the air, even the rain, while walking the cobbled streets in Tuscany?
To spend an evening in Florence?
To visit Greece, Spain, Ireland, Wales, and relive stories read?
To feel and breathe the air there, brimming with adventure?
We walk through various labyrinths in life, so absorbed in our own worlds...hours, days, become prosy, they move oh, so slowly.......still, when the dark is upon us, we sit and reflect...wondering:
Will we see another day unfold before us?
Do we get to witness
The Blue Hours of another sunrise and sunset,
And further be enchanted by the day's breath-taking
A L P E N G L O W ?
How many more
A L P E N G L O W S ?
Sally
Copyright August 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 7:39 PM UTC
I overflow, I absorb,
I push, I retreat — and then
I pour it out.
I gave myself names,
So, I took on forms,
Types, meanings,
Traits I had never worn before —
Unlikely mutations.
The end was
The Beginning of Everything.
II
I materialized,
Threading time and space onto myself.
I exploded,
Giving birth and dying —
In multiverses.
III
I budded through fractals,
Creating illogical gravities.
Where there was supposed to be no life —
Angular feelings emerged,
Flattened stars,
Ellipsoidal planets...
Until Human Beings appeared.
IV
Then everything changed.
They began to put me in boxes
Shouting with anger:
“My Faith!”
“Your Philosophy!”
And yet I am everything:
Existence in non-existence,
A colorful flash,
Undulating silence,
A sigh that screams.
V
Drink me,
Eat me piece by piece,
Discover me — but don't defend yourself
Against denial,
Consequences
And mistakes
When you see a wall in front of you.
VI
Don't take yourself away —
Because YOU ARE
Also, in that
In which you sink
Your Gaze
Your Hearing
Your Thoughts.
Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 1:33 PM UTC
When every time I close my eyes
It's you that I dream about
As I wake up in the morning
It's you that I wanted to be right by my side
I've been dreaming of me as your wife
And you as my baby's dad
I've pictured how our little one's room be like
Will they ever be materialized?
How can I not love you
If you're everywhere I go?
How do I stop loving you
When you are all I know?
How will I ever find me
Without you?
But what can I do
If you just love me no more...
What will I do
If you decide to leave me?
Only one thing I know is for sure
And that is I don't know.
So tell me,
How can I unlove you?
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 6:26 AM UTC
Once you’ve gone
what more is there
to say about leaving
or, for that matter,
the impermanence
of measured words.
All I can do is stand
alone in the backyard
and listen to the wind.
A late frost killed
the magnolia buds
and the forsythia
never materialized.
And so I wait for the worms
to begin their earthy work.
I wait for the pink moon
to rise above the rooftops.
I wait for the smell of mock orange
and the blue of a broken robin’s egg.
But most of all
I wait for your
words to bloom,
to tell me, finally,
that spring is here—
that the gardens we tend to
have something more to say.
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
Sometimes I wish love was just an option,
that feelings materialized by chance
and the many rooms of the heart were filled with cotton.
That we could choose to see what's behind the door,
that it was an A, B or C answers on a game show.
That it was a myth, the most ridiculous fantasy novel,
that it could easily be buried on a night with alcohol and a shovel.
I wish love was just an option,
that it came with the ability to fly,
because us mortals are not equipped to fall from such heights,
but yet, we do.
I wish love was just an option,
that our tears were made of sugarcane bliss
and the taste on our lips didn't belong to a kiss
but yet, they do.
Because love it's not an option,
it’s not a text message filled with X’s & O’s
it’s not Hollywood happy ending
it’s not a Kardashian wedding
it’s not a facebook ‘Relationship Status’
it's not iPhone App
it’s not what’s perceived on the outside
it's the parade of emotions running rampant in your insides.
Because love is not an option, my love,
alas, it's the only one.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 11:21 AM UTC
A warm summer night long ago,
the brightest star to the left of the moon
exploded into a shower of stardust
that, as it fell gently,
through the layers of the atmosphere,
combined with the rain,
and the laughs of lovers,
and butterfly wings.
And by the time it reached the ground,
it had materialized as the shimmer
in your bright blue eyes
that gazed at me
in a way that almost mended
the most broken parts
of my soul.
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
I
Under vibrating lights
The mystique of two of us collide
Too late in the night
Speaking of home and vast distances
Your x-ray voice and venomous cynicism
Are melting
A rooftop, city under our feet
Cars screaming like wild birds
You’re touching my arm
Through bricks and cement
And solid air of defence wall
Cut and transformed, pasted in wrong places
All we ever been
New words tingle through me
This given thing is unveiling
Wrapped up in a see through metaphors
It was always here
II
Nonchalant touch, a look, a sigh
Catalyst to my complete degradation
To this state of demolishing chaos of you
Running through the boulevard of prohibited
Propinquity
Past every connotation of time
When innocence is in demise
My vows are burning me
Around my finger
I’m melting like a Wicked Witch of the West
Selling myself to this unstoppable force of Nature
This twister inside of me
With your breath in my ear, like a butterfly
Clapping its wings to start the cycle
Nerves are twitching
Skin under your hand, screaming
I hide
My head under your neck
You smell surprisingly sweet
For a tempest
Your hands are holding me against the wall
Like a prisoner of this absurd war
I roll my eyes up to
Vermilion lights trembling above us
We’re simultaneously breathing in
Myriad of incandescent particles
Of materialized desire
World is sinking into oblivion
III
The arch of you above me,
On your chest, suicide turned into butterflies escaping
Transforming you into my ultimate
Fall from grace
Breathing underwater, in this liquid limbo
I’m breathing in absolute fire
Between every particle of sweat is sin
My skin is inked with handprints
Bones showing
I sink in the ethereal on this cold floor
Under velvet waves
Seeing all red
Those butterflies now fling above me
Out of some fallen creatures head
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 1:04 AM UTC
knowing the simple implementation
of all this ****** frustration
into some kind of mechanization
into the institutionalization
of something you'd call psychoanalysis.
i've analyzed
i've criticized
i've materialized
i've realized
that we're all waiting for our final grade.
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 10:03 PM UTC
Star glass and light. Emotion engine, dream machine. This is my Lightcycle! With just thought I can catapult myself across the galaxy! I remember home and the fields of blue bonnets and Indian paint brushes. I remember looking up at the stars from Earth. Wishing to one day see them. But nothing is more beautiful than that blue star from afar. Earth shines and sings sapphire among the blackness we call space. But as I enter my solar system I no longer see her. I quickly thought stream home and find my planet is covered in a sick gray shadowy nebula. Something is here and is trying to take away all the souls of the Earth! I try and break through with my Lightcycle! The star shell fills with my anger and despair! Reds and tornados made of light dance within my Lightcycle! But to no avail the nebula seems to counter act my will! I close my eyes as tears flow. My lightcycle cries colors on the inside. As I open my eyes I see a cloud within my lightcycle that is made of all colors! It then clears as I see the harp with light strings the Dragon Secalos gave to me. This was the dragon I escorted across the galaxy! The harp then materialized in my hands and I played the melody of the star serpent! I cannot begin to describe the melody to you. It was like my dreams were playing for me. From afar I could see a blue star growing and growing. Only it was no blue star at all! It was the dragon Secalos! He was even more massive than before. His wings shined Star Earth blue. He must of been the size of our moon. He looked to me with glowing blue eyes! He spoke to me with his mind. " I will help you in thy darkest hour as you helped me." The dragon then flew toward our sun and completely back in an instant. He then emitted a beam of light that was all colors toward the dark gray nebula. The dark grey nebula filled with colors and seem to almost dissipate. The beautiful majestic Earth seem to almost smile back at me. " Thank you serpent of the stars!" " Thank you rider of light. "
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC