Winter's Prayer. 10-25-07. Ink.


Men have fallen. Women have cried.
They lost their lights in the Angel's eye.
Men have died. Women were burned.
Children starve and the angel learned.

Was it her hand that caresses the open wound or was the wound to caress her hand?

Was it the maiden who brought forth the tears or did they leave on their own accord?

For it was that glimmer of her soul that slid down her cheek splashing to thirsty earth.

Mixing with the cascade of blood, the river of men of clashing fury.

The destiny did dance and the world birthed new light.

No sweeter the breath she gave to this world, her last breath which has become the wind.

Her last tear too great it filled the oceans Sepparating men from swords to dance.

Her blood she bid to man... so he may continue... she would die.

Cold barren land with canyons of blood now with lush greens and fruits of fertily given.

The maiden became nameless...

Stepping stones of Azure mist spread accross the sweet echoing streams.

Her winter's dance forgotten...

Men Still fight to bring devasting destruction upon one another.

When Earth veers to End...

The winters prayer with cold embrace brings little rememberance to the nameless maiden.

She will no longer thrive.