Cool night breeze blowing through the naked trees cry out as a wolf to the moon shivering like the rose of winter covered by the luminous pearl blanket void of warmth longing for a single ray of a golden touch to feel alive.



Silver strands of the white clouds floating above bring the rain to wash away the past that cannot be reclaimed through vicarious living of a false lie that grasp for the change of a future that holds too far away to understand the meaning behind the cause of an incandescent vision too blurred to receive within the self.



The immoral encompass that has overshadowed the self being has allowed for the realization of false truth. The desire to find that which is unobtainable strives for perfection that can not be reached in earthly form. The emphasis is the excuse for that which has a blind eye turned. It's the risk for that which is wanted but the fear controls the lies which spill from the mouth and a chance not taken. It is nothing more than a dream pertained to a false reality.