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I kiss her Apocalypse,

She strums my violet skinny ribs,

I pluck her violin string hair,

finely tuning the walk up the long white winding stairs,

He looks down at us from a prism,

Not a sound to cry,

A Fool laughs,

Just listen,

A new symphony,

Made of old love and sadness,

Of magic made in the throughs of love and madness,

Tightrope walking on Epiphany,

It will never come,

Death,

Life,

Just the inevitable fall and rise,

I can make something real,

It may be ugly,

Everything makes us happy,

A Falling Fall leaf defines the seasons seed,

to defy beautiful,

I shall not,

It holds it's own hemisphere,

quaking and shaking,

I have been inside for too long,

The break in the gate will not last long,

A slow moving fog,

One last song

I kiss her Apocalypse,

She strums my violet skinny ribs