What was said was an anthem screamed into heaven
interpreted by wanton devils
wandering mundus, seeking revelation
and creating their own pastel masterpieces
Wonder at the beauty that carelessness can create
while asking the most necessary question—
is everything a devil’s work in paradise
or is the touch of divinity here
among worldly things, shadowed things
cast as silhouettes upon the walls we built
as we wait for the hand that will tear them down?
When all else fails, where do you go for inspiration?