I watched the sand of silence sift through the fingers of my life.
The waves of my essence battered against the rock of my spirit.
I became suspended in the illusion of astral vibrations.
Vibrations that prophetically eroded an infinity of time through the invisible
tide of hope.
The sea whispered secrets to the dawn of continuous frames.
Frames that transpired no paintings of dreams in the mirror of reality.
The fear of death nor the pain of life can divide me from my garment of
Behind iron bars I am only a prisoner of gravity enchained by limited
The moon seduced the still waters to run like the breeze against the shores of
Time has tempered the fire that drank from the riverbanks of tranquility and
I must wipe the ice that drips poetry from its lips.
My graves of Whispered Screams resurrected from the dust will soar on the
wind of four seasons until they rest once again.
What appeared was not so – What I saw was not there and what was there I
did not see.