I.
The water of the sun
blemished in the people's scarred eyes,
lofty in height
yet minute in sculpture,
great said the man,
and the woman has added a shining star.

The dark moon cast a ray of scowering flighted heat,
beating a solemn drum upon the livid dust
a flurry of words,
a beckoning of silence,
how great is the art of man's science.

A white parched wood
flirting among daffodils,
bludgeoned of stone and steel
from the depths of hellish pits of fire
a man lived,
he ran
and leapt across the cliff of time,
ripples of essence floating
in the cloudless veil,
burning heat and brimstone trailing
behind in a lavish escaladed dance.

II.
Terrain in molded form,
lifting in the sweet breeze of heaven,
the blasted hate of hell.

A mountain molded in iron cried
to the great heaven,
words of power and dreams
churning.

"Admiral," cried he,
"Whence does this power come?"

At the moment a shake blasted
through the nine lives of man's desperate plea,
billowing sheets of water cascading
like the pummel of stone forged
from the hard-cased burns,

burns from a wiry finger,
the tip charred and black,
forgotten,
untouched,
shunned.
He cried, unyielding a just hold,
and it fell,
fell, down in great spirals,
to the earth below
to a great mound of grass
with shady bladed daggers
swinging in the cold snappy breeze,
he fell.

III.
"I fall,"
whispered he,
and down his words tumbled
like a craving method of madness
only known to the whispers of the woolen sea,
beneath the land he fell,
observing the pits and sticks of the world,
awash in worry.

Upon this unearthly grave
lived the foulest of man's beasts,
sharp talons that murmur
a glaze of white off the golden ripples of a lake,
beady eyes glimmering a touch of red painted crimson,
green legs clad in leaves,
sprouting moon-faced mice.

Bats of velvet shine cackled among the bleak,
flapping of robes swirling about
the thrones of the ancient kings.

Burnt cannons sat smoldering on the dusted ivory,
curls of smoke laughing into the darkness,
a staring darkness that held a whip of envy
so strong the light fell in pieces
of shattered glass,
glints of sunlight held within
the fragments of an aqua faced city.

IV.
"So I am here,"
regretted he,
"and so I shall remain."
he was a man of no meager height,
whose legs stretched long and strong,
lumps of hope reigning across
his gleaming sculptured body.

His hair shone like light,
the sun's burning desire,
and his eyes held the calmness of the sea,
a frothy white foam bubbling
in a cauldron of depressed grins.

He flirted his eyes this and that way,
and melted any creature in his gaze.

He held a sagely frown,
of being lost and being found anew,
yet he knew not this fondness,
but only his loss,
the great loss of human grief,
of burning suffering and shifty stares
dominated his thoughts.

V.
At that moment a creature of origins
iridescently rainbow flew down from the darkness,
and the air turned its folds
into a caressing love of color.

The clouds of pity vanished,
replaced by the puffy fickle rainwater.

The rain danced along the wings of the great beast,
twirling in loops of delight
around its hardened unloved body,
the scales glowed from the drenched droplets
and the darkness fled.

The darkness escaped like a hissing of motion,
shirking away in a clenching of anger,
the sky became enveloped
in a fortress of crystal clarity,
colors entrancing the foul beasts,
turning hate into laughter.

The dark haired sniggers once hugging the great fools of lies
turned to a happy sensation
of lifted yearning, of hope joining with the warm
wind to welcome the address of joy.