In this land of discernment, they shall rest and awake, but still feel the unwanted in the brightness of day.
There is a rainstorm pouring freckles and shades of rain with the company of lightning and thundering screams. Uncertain and scared children along the land. Looking for their loving hand. But find only cold bitter rain flowing down the molds of their noses. We see many faces of peachy colored skin, but one shines out with a glow to his pale flesh that sleeps on his skull. His eyes tell many things, like if his happiness was real, or even the hate he tried to hide. His eyes revel what will come to be. His eyes like the blue sea, of confused waves.
Stiff yet fragile, like a tree branch, he reaches out. Coldness wraps around my hand, yet such a pleasant touch. That brings me to another world of passion filled flowers, which look like they were placed in neat rows, along the green pasture, and sunset sky. Air so clean and clear, more clear then crystal, flows through my lugs passionately, I feel my muscle begin melt. Flowers of red and purple, glows around me with such softness in their touch.
There is a rainstorm pouring freckles and shades of rain with the company of lightning and thundering screams. Cold pale comfort around my hips. And pale lips with lake warm touch to my neck. His eyes in such peace with the time that stops. Along this cold bitter rain that is touch less to our flesh.
Standing amongst the rain as the others fade, smearing into the ground, was it I that save such a soul, or was it the passion that filled the rainy, star filled night. We stand alone, yet together, till the day are flesh falls like autumn leaves, decaying in the broken ground. That brings us to another world of passion filled flowers, which look like they were placed in neat rows, along the green pasture, and sunset sky.

©Kerstin