Sheared branches envelop the shadows underfoot while the sharpness of the punctuated blasts of sound assault the norms of sanity.
The scratch marks and the significant aromas twist the senses of belief and belie the reality.
The engraved stones litter the path and beyond, eschewing a present past and the echoes of the past, in the present.
Candle lit vigils stand in the merits of their united compassion flickering their message in their own invisibility.
Apparitions, fleet footed dance in the shadows, casting their ambivalence, caught in a swathe of emotions,long since buried in the crypts of humanity.
The flora caught in the cross draft of change, emanate their own subtle manifestations.
Bathed in the glorious warmth and heat of the sunbeams, of the day and inspired by the lunar beams at night, a lost essence is breached.
In the obsidian blackness of the pools of water, streams of information become relevant.
The limbs of the trees part their luxuriant foliage, metamorphosing the shadows, bringing light, as the silence reigns supreme.
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