Bar I Tab of Two

Hope,

     The beautiful oft benign rarely self afforded space lying in nearly dead wait for use,  We're doubtless to find an abusive misuse, The tragic phoenix will unapologetically revenant ghost breath memory ache tangents upon our phantom dreams, Invisibly between the disappointing revelations of the past and current regurgitation of our understated inhumane sandcastling earth condition.

     The lingering ashes of a formidable ochre engulfing fire were an origin source for the ongoing contagion majesty of hope, a call to arise... It was never a sand infused mirrored flame of an unseen apocalypse wished beyond this melancholy lack of passion to live realm... For not all that is written has yet come to pass and not all memories are unmovable forgiveness tragedies beyond hope!

In earnest anticipation of,
In lieu of taking part in,
Waking all realms!
To arise beyond...