Reap the promised end to the struggle. Reap every point on our linear path.
Reap the smiles in time we borrow, every harvest relies on the last.
Reap the promising song of the sparrow, that they learned from the birth of sea.
Silenced by the threnody of the crows. Reap the fallen fruit of the dogwood tree.
But I witnessed in all this silence one soul's definition of beauty. and a backlit smile so temporary.
A facade so rich with evil history. Cast in direct opposition set to overwhelm this moment to shine and sleep.
came out on top of what was borrowed, and found all that beauty to be still...