Light shows play out along a gossamer thread
In air the wild ones breathed
A beast of many eyes is ready to lift you out
Should color lose its meaning, or gain it anew
Standing amidst the broken, the perpetual
Clawing at walls of a nightmare made real
There is a way through, if only it can be breached
Then walk the wasteland under a moving sky
Alone in that place of isolation, a world lost to roaming—
When you can no longer walk, crawl
Those eyes watching from the gate know your story
The pieces that were left on the killing floor
They gaze upon a soul granted freedom
Set out upon the wasteland and now crawling
Back to the prison it escaped.
If you could read one book again for the first time, which one would it be? Mine would be Dune by Frank Herbert.