Genur.art

Vain Alone again, under a dome of judgement he thought was for the banned only. Imprisoned in flesh so heavy with guilt that angels of light sorrow feel. The sum of his thoughts cannot bring light to a darkness of three am nor a breeze of strawberry summer to a winter's cold inside. "Look for the person in the words, not the shell from where they were born" He said in vain to the rhythm of music almost divine, urging him to get up and go on. All music dies out with time, beauty as well but time, which enjoyed borrowing herself to him, no traces of guilt show because only forward her wheels go.