Everflowing, gentle, soft,

The black thread dangles.

Once a contributor to the strength of a whole,

The unity stood uncorrupted, pure.

Quickly, pace by swift pace, the thread begins to unravel.

Further and further he stretches from the community.

Further and further he secedes toward the open, freedom.

The dark, gloomy shadow of loneliness permeates his mind.

The decay of those lost loosens his uniform.

Drifting towards madness, he fluffs.

The anchor to safety, comfort, happiness, weathers.

All hope is lost.

With the filp of God's wrist another appears.

Elegant, slender, clean.

Beautiful perfection displayed through peace and joy.

Harmony serenades his soal.

The love, described in tales long lost, are no match

for the magnitude measure in their entangled hearts.

Dark turns to light, night to day, misery to delicious delight.

The glimmering morning dew transforms the sun.

A pebble created ripple, now a majestic roaring translucent sea.

Snip.