Pray For A Song

And then one day, when someone lights up all the stars one by one, we will stand under the inky sky and find our lost tune. A thousand suns will fill us with their brilliance. As the sonata plays, we will soar into the air with wings of silver. Each one of us will be free then. Free of every darkness that surrounds us. Everyone, man or animal, earth, snow, air or water; every element of this cosmos will join in the score and sing in such harmony that even the lifeless would be filled with a feeling of an absoluteness. No petty happiness nor material sorrow, a strong and indescribable sense of pure freedom. There will be no miserable pieces on this earth. Fractures will heal and we will be whole. And when we reach the crescendo; in that melody every chain will break; every page will burn and when empires silently come crashing down, witches will wail. Amidst that destruction, when you will take my hand in yours, there will be no tears in our eyes. When the music fades, under a silver tarpaulin, we will set up a doll house in the shadow of an unscathed moon.

Until then, believe that day will come and hum the tune on.