I decided I post this one from my livejournal for you to read:
4:55 pm - visions
Over a cliff in a place where cranes birth hangs a prophet tied in gauze, caked in blood and dreams and mud...and the last saving key of forever. She blinks, her matted auburn tendrils twist over her decayed brow. Wise with pain. A key slips past the ties from her wrist, entwined in silver wire with a small irridescent stone the size of her thumbnail. Blinks, once, twice...the skeleton key slips into the depths of water...300......400 feet falling falling into the cold cloud filled air drenched in sunlight and expectations. It is swallowed by one of the pools below into the shaded land where a bird sits admiring the twists of coveted light. Drifting in strands through the rocks falling on her blessed feathers. Her knowing eyes. With painful grace she captures the unlocker and spreads the glorious wings that might kill me with unworthiness. She lifts from her stance, effortlessly. Turning to the once shy sunlight with radiating gold and red feathers, lifting lifting. Into ascension at heaven lifting lifting. The prisms of her soul dye her feathers blue embers of silk, shimmering angel ashes. Lifting lifting, her feathers once again turn....
....to the softest downy white...invisible but to the purest of souls...Lifting lifting...the feathers fall away...one by one....to reveal the perfect godliness of nothing.
...nothing but what was always there.
4:55 pm - visions
Over a cliff in a place where cranes birth hangs a prophet tied in gauze, caked in blood and dreams and mud...and the last saving key of forever. She blinks, her matted auburn tendrils twist over her decayed brow. Wise with pain. A key slips past the ties from her wrist, entwined in silver wire with a small irridescent stone the size of her thumbnail. Blinks, once, twice...the skeleton key slips into the depths of water...300......400 feet falling falling into the cold cloud filled air drenched in sunlight and expectations. It is swallowed by one of the pools below into the shaded land where a bird sits admiring the twists of coveted light. Drifting in strands through the rocks falling on her blessed feathers. Her knowing eyes. With painful grace she captures the unlocker and spreads the glorious wings that might kill me with unworthiness. She lifts from her stance, effortlessly. Turning to the once shy sunlight with radiating gold and red feathers, lifting lifting. Into ascension at heaven lifting lifting. The prisms of her soul dye her feathers blue embers of silk, shimmering angel ashes. Lifting lifting, her feathers once again turn....
....to the softest downy white...invisible but to the purest of souls...Lifting lifting...the feathers fall away...one by one....to reveal the perfect godliness of nothing.
...nothing but what was always there.
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-c