Quietly Sleeping Embers

Quietly Sleeping Embers the materials of timeless elements that once laid deep within the earth, as sleeping embers in a quiet fire, or the thumping of rocks, their throaty shouts, attracted to the source, protean, the standard of all things apocryphally edged, eyes in search of themselves, flashing visions in search of hallucinations, sighing. lateral unitities scrape the tattered and the buttressed scaffolds in dimension, as a formican stave appears sage-like, alone at it’s cusp, pointing towards inevitability. our hands are lined with our history, concealed, our hearts deeply gouged, bleed coloradan stain, whimper as they will, feeble outcomes fail the test, it’s standards not presently contained. the harbinger of listless souls, tearless and gut-wrenched, gesticulating, wordless, those materials, that source of satiety trembles, those quietly sleeping embers, light even the world.