Eloquent flowers swaying towards the white...
Enjoying what the wind has to offer...
To such an alter that watches over all in our minds...
But never in reality...
Roses born beyond the forest that calls with whispers...
How quickly they learn what death feels like,
So thorns are anew...
Rooted by malice and covered in shredded bone...
Lying deep in the marshes where the crocodiles are watching through the fog...
Eyes will tell a silhouette where to appear,
Yet not in fear
...
And the nights grow thicker than pelts of fur stacked in a barn...
A long, hard day at the grind of greed and dust...
Which is unfortunately a must...
...
Calling through circles of trials and tribulations...
Creations of devastation...
That leads towards cremation...
A fallen mother with a heart covered in silver worries and golden tears...
How beautiful is it to you...
For when you only see her tombstone...
...
And the crows mock the ants that carry bread and butter...
Illusionary mindsets trickle as much as they're fickle...
Soft skin wishing to be of something even lower than power...
In which is chaos...
...
We spill gardens into concrete's and create soggy Wonderland's...
We create wings for lizards and rats,
But not for the birds and dragons...
How many droughts must they suffer?
...
Through winds that travel from the east to the west...
Know there's a north and south...
A cloud will cry because of you...
But not for you...
And not to you...
And you won't have a clue...
...
There's more out of life than this...
A mist of mystery that is the future...
But beyond the smoke,
Eyes that see what no one else sees...
Is an island covered with no dead men...