we'll float and never land.

they spoke a sad story.
of two dreams in one soul.
one had already ended.
the other, yet to unfold

they belonged to a man,
heart pure as sea.
he longed for his solace
but his solace ceased to be.

for all he had tried to do
in his time with those he loved
his hatred came undo
and cast shadows from above

this man saw his dream
shatter, piece by piece
they formed another ocean
over a fiery sea

they sang
they stole
they swirled
they fold
they poured his hate to one.

sad, sad saint.

his arm had departed.
lost forevermore.
his legs followed suit.
and they walked out the door

so he broke his mirror
into a thousand and one.

he thought he saw kindness.
he thought he saw glee.
alas what the saint had seen
was what he wanted to see.

blinded and bound,
by rage,
by hope,
by fear.
he watched as his dream
killed what he held dear.

now that its over,
a second dream has begun.
there are but none beside him
in his dark heart resides one.

forty thousand voices
in as many different tongues.
speak in unison.
of all the things he had done.

he screams
he cries
he bleeds
he tries.
to rid them from his head.

and now the saint is tainted grey.
and his robes are fiery blue.
his halo, cracked and tarred,
his wings are moulting too.

oh heaven send a light.
oh heaven lead the way.
to guide this sad, sad saint
back to his feet someday.



and they sent an angel.

solitude, lastlivingcity.