Leaking strawberries.

Vermillion serum seeps from the flesh

Grass did not sway

No haunting murmur

No breaths

No beats

All time ceased as absolution was attained

For none could fathom how the Moon swallowed the Sun.

a Ripe End.

Flickering away,
luminous dreams.
We know it nears,
We bow in it's aura,
the Devastator.

Helm low, hope high
is it really about the end

Or was it always about the start.