Spring burns the senses into submission
We wait and wait, and tears fill the tears
An Aroma that the ascended alchemist himself
Creates in his laboratory, we drink with our eyes
Filling up on beauty that mocks us, as we accept
New Angel prayers into our heart
Trust in letting go, until we have been run rampant
Rebuilt like new, each day, if we choose, If we choose
You unsure ask through ether and we assure the strangeness
The Fiction that leaves you baffled, dumbfounded, found
We smile and place on your crown, the keys to the doors
That the gentlemen held open, and the ladies breezed through
There is an entire World to share, and you have awoken from yours
A slumber, your immortality is resumed, We will share ours with you.
Christopher Baird 2011 ©
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