Even as my jaw dropped open to allow heavy declarations to fall into the priest's scrawlings, I could feel your grip upon my heart, urging it to beat a little faster. I felt your fingers on the skin of my neck, tensing rhythmically, just to make sure that I could feel your strength. I screamed as a faceless priest pushed me from my perch along the rift in the stone. Your ravenous predictions laughed while Delphi turned upside down and my eyes closed with your lips, enveloping your temple in darkness. Lyre Music falls from the fingers of one who seems possessed.
Chords stream in a sudden madness unknown to any man.
It struggles to the strings in distant moans, betraying a sun-god's evening nightmares. Pleaing notes of momentary siblinghood encompass the air and squeeze, the musical juices flowing in the quieted wind like the victory blood of an ancient tree. He sways as it takes him - up and over himself to another time where he alone is God, a being in justice, rhythmically sound beneath a forever glowing, sunny sky. The sun glistens like liquid gold and he is suddenly near, that coltish amble making him seem every bit the passionate young man. He roams about, brazenly meandering in hope of finding some haphazard virgin to love, some human to find grace in.