Coarse skinless fireflies traced the trail back
to the dwelling of the empyrean eye
which oversees all things past, present, and future alike.
It is the florescence –
the swirling sentiency unswayed by mortal screeches
sustaining pillars of self-adversity.
~*~
In the breeze lies the breath of the wisdom of antiquity.
In the breeze lies the answer to all questions accordingly.
It is the florescence –
the collector of currency in alchemy,
and the subtle link of life and balmy clarity.
“Liberation is the way!”, it tore from my throat and chest,
that if all senses obeyed one wish,
they would be exiled
through the stellar gateways of creativity.
~*~
Coarse skinless fireflies adorned the crown of night
from the cradle to the zenith,
observing the strange luminous shapes in the dark.
It was the florescence –
the crystal ally which deemed
the twin mirrors not parallel
to embark on the sail throgh
the infernal lands.
The Nocturnal Versifier 