To The Fine and Hungry Many

Word power through soul, like water through stone, carve beauty to earth.

A land in constant shift. A born remembrance.

A splintered sun. The ray of ages.

The mist of a generation. The constant clash of war.

In an hourglass of enemies, when unison finds dissonance like shots in the dark where the wildlife find it's meal.

To the fine and hungry few.

The eager among us. The fortunate few.

Found limits. Forgotten sorrows.

Slighted truths and filtered realities.

Condensed.

Abridged.

Drafted.

Called.

Stoned.

Tired.

But reborn.