Silverwing

If I achieve nothing else, if all that I have worked for is for naught, I can die happy knowing that I have lived through my soul instead of forcing my soul to live through me. The roots of this tree are tied to clouds No earth and no stone can hold on in their simplicity To the amber leaves and glittering branches That shelter the silverwing faeries of my mind In the distance, there is the sparkle of amber Count the clouds, slowly rolling Dropping tears from the crescents in your eyes Slowly drowning the ignorance Let the rivers flood Tear down the concrete walls Sealing innocence and blocking its light Let the clouds collide Bathing us in their flashes of truth Drowning out the sounds of hate with their beautiful confusion And let the mountains bow To the silverwing faeries of the mind Below, the ants swarm Marching to the rhythm of the ticking timepiece Melting in the August sun Pile the rubble Up the hill Down the hill The rhythmic footfall carves a trench Deeper into the earth Till the softness eclipses the sun Above, there is only sky No dawn to the East No dusk to the West But in the distance, there is the sparkle of Amber A golden twinkle against the pale blue A humble light that can shatter mountains Dancing on an eternal horizon, growing and fading Its touch as gentle as a ripple Caressing the shores of my soul In the palm of my hand, there is my sparkle of amber