....

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.