descends from the store above
caressing the furrows of life
the heart thinks, the mind screams
is this where it all begins?
as the chill & spray slap the face
urge,stabs,passion, all a haze
fighting to gain precedence
will it be? or it is just a game?
will realisation hit the highest
or meander, playing name
will the plant stand while forests fall
when will it resonate? nature's call?
the soul longs as it groans
for its no longer saint
as old wounds mock again
searching for what it owns
and as the sword is returned
the first rays hit the now plains
still the mind screams
and the heart beats blood to the drains.
-arch
