Everything must come abound in the clasps of time
Like a turning waves of icy cold seawater
Pondered upon like a soften stone
Or catalyzed like a tempered lava
In drift, the heaven shall beam in accord
Coinciding with the pelting drop of rain showers
Upon the vegetations so thirst and withered
Melting their dreadful fear of quick desolation
Raspy beating, the ancient shall dwell in history
Lording over its dulled light and melody
Ending the down pouring era of vagueness
To openly embrace the new fountain of light.
-intaglio_azureHBC