The Crest

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I want to share this coat with you.
This void of dreams I must pursue.
A rose can’t shed its thorns alone.
Instill in me the bleak grey throne.

The Crest, how wonderous its shine and glow.
The Crest, how desolate its plane of woe.

I, the cherub, reflects in the shimmering call of my own breed.
Create in me a new rose to bloom vividly above the black seas.
Lost in a pendant of more fortunate pastimes to unchain glee.

Digging deep into my own deafened compromise, I know, somehow, you are still with me.

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