What's the beauty of the setting sun?
The colours although the night has come,
Bringing cold on the back of her hands,
And shadows, haunted by the faintest dreams.
Why cry at the strangest words?
Are death and beauty so alike?
They say absence makes the heart grow,
Fonder,
Perhaps death is just the greatest vow of all.
Through suffering comes,
Absolution,
We are never judged,
But by ourselves.
Such guilt from the remnants of creation,
Through strife comes the
Flower of the fall.
A thin line between fire and the ice,
Passion's heat and hatred's burning;
Calm of love, and isolation's searing,
Cold,
Fragile snowflakes and ephemeral sparks.
A moth spreads her tattered wings,
While the rusted iron church bell rings,
Silver knife cuts ancient red dyed strings,
How can all, so alike,
Think different things,
We'll meet again when the dead bird sings,
We'll meet again when the butterfly stings.
The ocean shapes the earth.
So close, and born to clash.
What fish would see beyond his pool?
Two worlds of shining scales.
'I want to be alone',
Said he,
'Fight me at every step, and I,
Will yield from my heart,
Though my,
Ruin will not heed.'
These maggots writhe beneath the flesh,
Must tear before the plague is gone,
In blood and bone lies,
Worst of all;
Disease of skin can slough.
Butterfly greets the moth again,
Watched by mantis' judging eyes,
Scorpion cares not where they go,
We'll meet again when the worm can see.
A million tiny changes,
One cell, one creature shatters all,
They who once watched,
Are snared again,
Annals of time have no heart to care.
Keep apart, the ones who love the most,
Cut short the depths of change,
One at a time, step by step,
One passes and another watched him go.
Forces equal and beyond,
Cast aside for now.
Freed from chains, freed from silk,
Freed from cage of eyes.
Instead, nail down, impale again.
'You want to be alone,'
He said,
'I'll fight you every step, and you,
Will yield for my hope,
And through,
The needle's eye we learn.'
There is no fire between them,
Just ice and thaw, crack and raw,
The cycle lacks the warmth for they,
Have lost what made them whole again.
We grow anew, we grow apart,
Through we can't reach to seal the hole,
A code, a lesion on the skin,
We shed, we heal, we die within.
'I will peel each layer of the soul.
'Til I reach the wound,
That leaches poison blood,
I will bleed this world out anew,
Exsanguinate for our own good.'
How many men leave footprints in the sand,
To be clawed back by ocean's hand?
Is it reaching for land,
Once more,
Or covering the marks?
The greatest waves come from the earth,
Who stirs in restless sleep,
What lies above is shifted hence,
In empathy,
Unwillingly.
Through enmity,
We raise a tree,
And rest beneath her boughs.
Through violence and strife we see,
Why we have made these vows.
A blackened sky breathes soot above,
Though peaceful without air.
No sound can penetrate the deeps,
Of earth, or stars, or sea.
The charcoal creature in the womb,
An ashen embryo in fire.
Reborn, we are, to everywhere.
A stranger promises to the sand.
Some primordial blood in him,
Would guide him here to stand.
As waves reach, caress his skin,
He feels a weary smile within.
