I look upon thee, with worth and longing, down from the valleys of fear and pain and peer into those profound depths.
I know the truths and the reasons, and yet i seemingly live behind curtains of stone, allaying my fears for the future.
But the canvass of time is stretched to the present, gaping wide, luring and waiting for me to paint its story.
A story written in gold and yellow, of shining light, effulgence bright, illuminating those silhouettes and dark alleys.
In those different moments of madness, the turnstiles move and the count is lost in books of deeds and meaning alights as to what is.
Life is no more a lie, time is no more a clock and space is no more a boundary. Man strives for different reasons, in it he searches for his own personal God.
These moments will lay spilled on beaches of sand under azure skies and trace its path along the blue expanse giving life its purpose that winds along curvaceous stairways into the heavens above.
Silence invades and inaction follows. There is peace and the seed of thought is beginning to emerge.
