An orchid born of the sacred dawn,
whispers the scent of life
in dormant butterflies ,
like the innocence of fairies
in a child`s vivid fantasy.
Crystallised trees,
attack the sword of love into the anarchy
that we have made with our god-given hands.
A luminescence in the dreams
of the purest souls,
such is the rarity
of this summer which we can conquer
through the sacrifice of cynicism.
As our wicked pupils torture the belief of prayer,
let us guide our guilty footsteps to the shrine of the
eclipsed jewel.
A single touch will cleanse our smoked existence.
Trickery is a weapon that no intelligence can fight, except for
chance, the holiest disguise of forgiveness.
So close your eyes and pray
For it is only in the darkness that such glory can be found.
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