Surreal
landscape moving,
melting
bittersweet metal
and
life is only incomplete
when
dying is living
Like
Van Gogh, wrestling love for immortality,
the
rorshach butterfly in print
waits
impatiently for death,
and
then, only then what remains,
can
be truly seen
There,
in the clouds resides a sphere,
floating
inside, a soul, calling to us all,
echoes
in the grass, and the trees,
moving
the mountains behind
whistling
down the wind
whispering
eternity...
Ode by Syyd Raven
Music
by Brycetech
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