Glazed veils, overflow; crack, with surging chills. Briny despair, on the verge of eruption,

Sundown upon me, meandering amongst them; enchanted, midst the dimness, inveigled by their mighty sway. Whirring winds

Day after the longest, lounging to sounds; traffic drone, plucks from strings swelling in the whispering

Morning’s sun, subtly dulled. So perfect does enact such shattered souls. The mist - delicate,

Magical silence, frames soulful melody, woeful beauty, endearing refrain. Chills nip my spine,

Wearily wafting, weightlessly, in buoyant, humid hue; Floating fearlessly, clutched in hazy radiance.

Swirling sage spheres dissolve the… Perfect, air-filled pockets, rolling, surging, bursting. Tawny slinks play; tumbling over,

Static. White noise. Deafening silence, overflows; trickling webs

Pearly hue, mottles through, filmy, fitful panes. Cascading its shimmer, silently; fluidly, flooding the room.

Subdued and moonless, breaks the dawn, delivering the year; boisterous gloom, percussing panes,

Synchronised elementally, attuned thoughts, raging solemnly. Ripping through trees, throwing leaves,

Behind a blinking twinkle, difference disappears, swirling midst an onyx cave, masked, like moon from sun.