There is a disturbance in the air.
One we cannot see; life we cannot breathe

We bow to the spirits hidden safely behind the stars that shine in the abyss of the eternal playground
It is in the anguish of fear that paranoia puts the soul to rest

In the screaming of the intense silence, we hear the voice of reason reflecting on the misery rotting in our minds.

Closing the vision, the iris burns
Surrounded by a fire that does not burn; a bullet that does not wound

It is an invisible force, so powerful; it pierces the essence of innocence and catapults all emotion to the edge of reality

How can such intensity provide a bed of restful comfort we rationalize to no avail?

With a hint of iridescence, the warmth of the sun illuminates the darkness and an echo of a new tomorrow is written in the clouds

With the pen of prophets and the calligraphy of angels, we read the words in anticipation…