15 October 2012

So you think that those thick trees, Are a home to a song-filled bird? They're really just elder souls, In their hard, cracked skin captured.

The heavens hanging above your head, Is just dispersed sunlight. Wrong, I say, they are cold wings Of frozen butterflies

The twinkling eyes of celestial spirits, Peering through the black sky. Look around you and you'll see, That grey is just a lie.

FujaDeception • Opuss № I