Life's lost labours wilt,wither,wanting watering sprinkles. Downward spirals spin silently, serenity slithering step by step. Troubled toes stub callased skin, scraping scabbing layers of animosity and misgivings, life's unforgiveness, bleeding bluntly, replacing remnants of radial radiance with life's leftovers. A tempest's temporal trials burn, incinerate, insideous intentions. Questions give labor to questions, the eternal flame, cyclical, born through smoldering ashes, flesh burns even brighter. Sweet Sister of Serenity please put angelic hands on what was, is, and could be...... Heal the blackened, void of color, closed closets closest to the hunger that hides its scarred, scorched scenes. Sitting solemnly, waiting for the night to fall. In its still I sense a side, sign, of tranquility and peace. Stars, distant lights, lost, pass periodically, knowing deliverance will come. When everything is dark, a stark reality, unfathomable beauty, tranquillity, silent sounds speak specific words. Easier here to forget fears... I squint, a tint of tailored tempered time.. To my surprise things seem better with squinted , half closed eyes. Reality is a perspective viewed by hearts that look through a veil of darkened glass. Brittle... Broken.. Cracked from seam to seam, corner to corner... Finding the strength and beauty in what does not seem to be there.. A perspective but not necessarily the reality. Oh how it is beautiful! Oh how it is grand ! To marvel at what is not seen through the seams. Oh how it is beautiful! Oh how it is grand! If ones mind can choose to see