Deeper than the lowest recesses of
A fiery pit meant to caress
And burden my soul for the
Centuries. Something is amiss.
For I am falling past what the Christians title Hell, dropping
Below their Hades into my
Own Summerland. A land of
Frozen fire and boiling ice.
A world of paradox and disbelief.
Walk on the blue grass,
Stare into the emerald sky,
Where clouds are black and
The moon shines in the daytime.
Stars erupt and fall from the
Sky, yet burn without pain
Or end. The water runs through air
Clear and spotless, more pure than
A thousand Saints. The birds sing
No songs, for they sing life in bubbling
Measure and melancholy verse. Here, the
Summer is forever fall and Winter
Doubly so and I interrupt perfection by
Existing and deeming this world into being.
And so I find this world flat, to seek
Out an edge, that I may fall through
Speeding time and find a new space,
Made entirely of destruction.
And thus, I fall...
 
Copyright © daerkroses, All Rights Reserved