Where the Natives EndureWhere the Natives EndureWhere the Natives Endure
What are you but my reflection, Come to rest until I disappear. When my rituals fade like sighs when I say, "Who am I but time to help you stay?" The frail deeds of faith become seers.
There in the tides where the serpents lie, No sea shall run. There where the brides of ofidians die, Breaks the autumn of the sun.
Swallow oceans from the hollow, Until the idols flee from grace. Where the cycles repeat, As a sunset that speaks, "Where once was a light, a light no more peaks." There will the finites of infinit
Timeless, Signless, RoadlessTimeless, Signless, RoadlessTimeless, Signless, Roadless
A tale of those who cross no road, No signs, tolls, or lack of mode. A line of bones and dossed tones, Made so by the malice of metal and stone, In a time when the good people slow.
Aroused from a slumber much deeper than soul, Found the lion asleep at his post and the snake coiled up ‘round his throat. “Long lived was this slumber of old,” said he,
Releasing the snake from its hold. “Wake now my sentinel,” rousing the beast with a stroke. “It is time to emerge and converge on a world enveloped in
Crimson SunsetCrimson Sunset (Our Wall of Dreams)Crimson Sunset
“Let my heart guild yours,” she says to he,
“A love of chaos; one the hungry, one the prey.”
“Listen to the walls,” he says to she,
Red Velvet DawnRed Velvet DawnRed Velvet Dawn
“In the nocturne of my earth,” he says to she,
“Let my twilight be your shelter.”
“Set ablaze my heart and soul,” she says to he, “To fasten my ashes to your lips.”
“Fragile is our autumn sun,” he says to she, “Soft as whispers on the wind.”
“Gentle is my summer rain,” she says to he, “To let my whispers touch your face.”
He the window to her flame, And she the song to call him home.
Held in the place between places, In t
Ramble in Tranditions III
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"Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted."
-Martin Luther King Jr.
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-em
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