His eyes fell down the old brick road, that path to the unknown
earth colored and fractured…
Cherubim sighs, takes his first step forward while haunted by whispers.. and adorned images swiftly clash with those words uttered, he claimed sight upon a raven poking the eye of a corpse repeatedly snatching miniature bits at every turn, related him to his heart and mind while whispers stabbed his ears along with a voice that was poisoned by those wretched whispers too. That voice which salvaged him long ago from the eternal wait at the gates of Byzantium but only to show him the way back to that rock he sat on, side of the gates , by the means of a tender kiss.
His torn wings never seized to bleed…
