high, above the clouds, into a cataract of lost emotion and belief
on the peak of the most invisible mountain ever created from the road of milk
a flag, glowing in the everlasting dark
reiterating mankind at it's peak, with fierily medals
emulating the air around
shining strangely in the pond like planet earth
a broken mirror full of lies
that deceive the eye of the unknowing
filling up the spasm with tales of long lost times
a temple full of heads
running down the steps, spitting up the blood of the elders
creating currents that take you away
and throw you off the flower road
into a wood of stone
that shines
in the early dawn
of a perfect silhouette
the horizon blinks
glimpses from the last white fire
shining on the top of the cript