About

If i could hold you

Like evanescence never was

Like fleeting cruelty of rapture ever never

is

or was

May you and I be bound to each-other

in this arrhythmia

If the arrow of truest final arted will

Did ever become your need

May the sacrifice of the way

Be the distance

That isn't

Or cancels all pain In the

Unsuffering

Which I seek

May the wings of solace

And serenity

be the truest final arted longing

And may that cross yearn

Into your gardens of dreams

Which you never thought you had.

Sariel then did a handstand

And then hung herself upside down..

In the barren empty homes of ever never

no one at all

She did then find something...

In the rhythms of time and space

where home and vitality

come next to final arted letters on the page

She sat silent in the burdens of our frailties

She wanted to murmur with the fullness of her heart,

the only way that one could really en-flame thyself in

the visceral clarity

of the real eye

She then blinded herself, And needed only one thing...

Just the vastness of her own beauty,

which resounded through corridors covered in crystal mirrors

The crystal Mirrors were lucid-est in their

Final arted vision

Which relinquished all false selves

in the requiem of all that was tremendously beautiful,

Sacredestly,

Preciousestly,

Beautiful Eye

Crystals of sweetness

Which pierceth the deepeness

In ones own secrets

This flesh may be borne in the only sense

But Love ever never finds it’s way out again

In the honesty of space and time

Which ends nowhere At all

But soon now,

you will be only mine

This is the only force, this is the only essence

The is the only light of lights

The agile in the lucid-est permeation’s

Which penetrate nothing else,

but the sanctuary in the palm of the shell

It wilt thou pacify thee,

In the sacred calm of black miracles and seeds

Oh,

Woe,

Black kaleidoscope

In those black stars which ever never were far

In the ends of all their horror

Their sickness

Their death

Their weakness