Take comfort in the cadence of the bond we share.
A visionary born and raised to see with an unbiased sense of sight.
We pause just for a second to properly embrace the radiance.
We are the anointed dipped in filth, taught to cower in fear of being identified... but tragedy will find us.
I'm held captive by my spoiled soul.
I won't allow it to affect my stride.
The procession will proceed as we're gifted with our own idea of peace.
So find yourself in me.
I promise I will keep you as we harvest the passion that remains.
Make my skin your sanctuary.
I make a pact with the earth to draw life from the living.
Make my skin your sanctuary.
Leap to the beat of my blood.
So place your hand in mine, drag your feet across the tops of trees.
Breathe easy knowing that the branches will support you and the weight of your complication.
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In the midst of the ruin that surrounds us, we communicate but only in tongues.
Our lips will welcome the caress of the crucifixion, and we stain the wood with defeat.
I am not a mortal, I am a metaphor for moving forward.
Photos
Artist: Sawyer Fredericks
Artist: Oliver Jones
Artist: David Crowder
Artist: Chrome