Becoming

A sated realm feasts upon the blood if the profane leaving it etched with secrets to come, empty of lies and pain. Moist was the passing and quick was the destruction and in their freedom, I did display. A message for another day to the many failing hope and seeking promise from the invisibility of their faith. Missing is their leader, failing their prayers every day, choking on tears for now sanctified spirits of those who’ve passed away.

A temporal dimension, a transonic force cleaves and pulls into the fray, those lost to the prognostications by those who desire to keep them far and away. Long are the curls, spun gold, their enhalo’d shine, delicate little girls all seeking a love, denied in life and betrayed until their final rest where I caress the departed into their new world with better hopes and dreams for the one now passed, the one skirting the seams between this world and the beyond. A power unchallenged walks amongst you, to him do you belong.

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