yabs

Lightly I tread
She, my mother world
I, the son of tragedy
He, the brother of caution

My eyes
My lips
My heart
Knew nothing more

Daring to be bold
To rekindle this fire anew
The fruits of inspiration
I offered to the heavens
(it showered back to me...)

My precious soul
I tried to buy back
Bartering with pieces of silver
Of bloody rubies and of gold

The trinkets of fortune
Inner machinations of fame
Yet only through these words
Did I earn this peace

Sleeping soundly
Among the snoring masses
Amid the screaming ghouls
That consumed all serenity

The banshees and heralds
Of once and before
All fade like the mist
As I regain my sanity

The blooms of shrouded Hazel
Lady Asia garbed in pink
A metamorphosis of visions
Aiding my mind to clearly think

(THANK YOU! You don't know how much this means to me)