Tristan’s Berserk | Flower Box

I'll give you the berserk rage buried within my soul.
And yet, may wrath never veil your heart.
In the end, only two hollow beings remain.
Standing still, tracing the silhouettes of clouds drifting past.
My soul swells like a great wave,
as your eyes close upon a sky long gone.
Time halts
just to behold the purest beauty in the depths of our gaze.

Watch me walk within my terminal exhaustion,
as you draw near, carrying the weight of quiet despair:
Eighteen crimson roses, ablaze
Eighteen levels I once rushed through.
How beautiful a shattered mind can be,
its pieces scattered across the vastness of space.
Burning away the ghosts of old despair,
your footsteps illuminate these hollow eyes of mine.
Weightless.
Exquisite.
Heaven, too blinding.
I am too gloomy.

What dreamscape would welcome this murky light?
I hide away from the searing sun,
But I still hope you're there.
Beyond ten thousand steps,
for just one instant face-to-face.
Let the world stop,
and witness us in our entirety.

Long days. Sleepless nights. Roses, ablaze.
The moon falls. Clouds blur. Waves, electric blue.
The sky. Resplendent. A mouth, still parted.
Your eyes. Tender. The waltz, spinning.