Sunday

amnēstia / luba

my heart is broken
my heart is beaten

(This vessel is condemned for treason)

° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

A hazy, dull, colored rain washes over us,
(like a disease) with an amnesiatic quality to it,
transforms us (forgetting us)

We took the footsteps,
marched right up to the top

We saw what it was like
to see the light

It was bright
It was magnificent

No other beauty in the world
can be compared to such a sight
such a feeling, such a state of being

A bliss like no other thing
that strives for such timelessness

We felt it and we knew

We touched the pinnacle of grace

It was all worth it


(I wouldn't trade those feelings for the world).

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