A tremendous glowing moon rises towards a tessellating sky of stars
The massive mountains of time seem to climb higher still
Ethereal cherubs dance daintily on snow-capped powdered peaks
Now the light of an enchanted night fulfills its will
Like arcs of flame and sparks of steel
smoldering fire creatures turn the great season wheel
Stone-brow juggernauts full of zeal
make the moment seem unreal
Hypnotic voices whisper through hidden valleys
Tales of gold and glory
They that hear the sounds of ancient victory
live on to relay the stories.
Old is the epoch era aeon arrived ages ago
To the rhythm of booming drums that no one truly knows
Or been heard before beyond pacific seas
Tiny glints of treasured hints produced by honey bees
Astral fissures and their divinity wielding hands of iron
set course across the heavenly body of the moon
below, the fairies hum their anthem, a perfect pitched tune.
Nowhere else but here high on mountain peaks they speak
a murmur so faint it is barely heard
Silken and soft are the angel's exchanging magical messages
these are their special words:
"eyes that cannot see, a minute sliver of a mystery,
can hold the gaze of deaf and silent ears quenching abnormal fears
of birth and death and all the rest when minutes are like years"
Meaning nothing to me. I manifest my wings and soar
a silhouette of a bird
never to be seen again
and never to be heard
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