....

Standing at the balcony

Of the last resort;

Watching desires past fly,

Thinking thoughts all distraught.

There! I know that box,

It has that sweet picture;

Silhoutte of the long-gones

Salted blessings in wounded souture.

For this is the last resort,

Standing by the cliff.

It hangs in hang till Kingdom's end

For here all beginning shall end.

In the dust I see,

Several heartfelt cursed plea

Lodging comfortably, shrapnels hit

Re-awakening future Memory.

As the last train goes up in smoke

Chugging along the platform of woes,

The winds ceasing to wind

Stood frozen I begin to grind.

Fingers go on scarlet blue

Lots of air beneath my shoe.

Borrow some faith in weakness

Settling all with-out inside

Then you let in some air

Letting your fingers fly in despair.

Lofted by the wings of fire

Falling down, ever climbing higher.

There I see pearly gates below

Horned Deity above; summoning in splendid glow.

Resurrection

Try looking outside the window to distract your mind. Images fleet by making every cog spin till it tilts in the head. Like the rainbow forming a white of the feeling which overwhelms every part within. You stand like a tennis ball jumping twice on the net, indecisive yet forebearing. When pictures of yesterday fills the novice he breaks with yearning. Labelling every colour stained across each vision. Beatifying the pain drowns painfully in the beautiful ocean of love. The rookie holds his breath in fear of filling his lungs with water. His mind gives up and the motley motion rises up in his air-sack.

Don't worry you wont die. The boy fails to reason his happiness. Scared and surprised he tries to put on the pretence on non-chalance. Then he looks outside the window and the ball hits the net-line. This time the decision becomes the means to just another memory. You learn that certain beings were sent to love. Cuz by loving they shall fill themselves with the purity of the whiteness they were running away from. Thus the resurrection of The God of Love.