"Holy is my desire, broken are the lies,
Twisted are my eyes, she has seen
The glory but not thy fate,
Succumbing to a need not known."
-angelic murmurs...whispered in a land where none exist.

"I can hear you call now," he, by chance, answered and with a light kiss to the lips, parted,
not knowing when the next bus was scheduled to arrive or whether he would take the train or a plane or whether his feet would bring him as far as he might need.  So he left with a flashlight in hand, aiming to find his way where all had gone but none had returned and then answered her call, as if from afar,
and she laughed not knowing the way, stumbling once, then twice and finally a third sent her catapulting from a high cliff and into the night his memory vanished and so did she.  Carrying a gun in his hand he held it near his temples and asked a god for forgiveness and, trembling, pulled the trigger, and all was still and none was heard and in the night his vision had cleared and from the walls of a point he could not see he saw the swooping forms of her ivory arms reaching down to him and let his head rest there, once more.- Trius Art

Viridian Pheonix
Oil on Canvas. 46"x64"

All copyrights reserved by Trius Fernsler