Vestigial fears

Soundless in an overshadowed realm. what gust of wind -breath of god -is ever still? crumbling all time is swept away the fever of memory. repentance is a two-fold scheme... sea against shore.

Evinced in solid and shape the orchestra of breath. gaze sternly over agony lying in state. poetical apotheosis they are not created to die! frantically grasp the terror of allowyal.

I cannot feel now...anger...hatred... what have i become?? torn from death's lifeless tree. those far reaching shadows... i am ripped from the earth the air the depths! you cannot make the dead live again.