Her eyes wait upon the sky.

Firmament of cloudy bliss where all heavens’ creations lift their faces.

Hands upraised, in supplication or praise,

Eyes turned in or out, into heart or mind, against practice and time,

Throughout our history, it has been said,

Her eyes wait upon the sky.

All colors and hues, at one time or another,

Find themselves filling without reprieve; and in those moments the heart ceases beating,

The world loses color; and the mind its luster.

We have done terrible blusters. We have felt horrible pains. We have committed inglorious sins. And we have lived through hundreds of capsulations,

And now as we pay, with fates soft whining justice we hear the wind.

And our eyes wait upon the sky.

I repent my sins, whatever they may be; I call upon your guidance for eternity.

I ask forgiveness, expecting none; I wander aimlessly, for in my atrociousness I have been undone.

And my eyes seek the sky, where repenting rain flows,

And my heart cries out on the wind, as it surely blows.

And my ears go inward, to hear my own shrieking moans,

The worst hell isn’t after death, but what can be conceived while a body still has breath.

Sometimes, it feels like the sky is falling down,

But even as I watch it collapse, I will stare upwards until death do me and this world part,

My eyes turned upward, waiting for the burst which signals humanity’s rebirth.

Her eyes wait upon the sky.