Sunrise betwixt the mountains.
Sinusoidal entrance of the sun,
Life is overexposed.
The lands proclaim.
Most artists use paint;
This One used hydrogen,
A symphony of unfathomable infinity.
And yet, and yet
Forsaken for another!
If only we would recover our conceptional devotion. Turn away from ourselves, towards the things that matter.
Another will one day fail and depart as dust, but this concerto will forever play on.
Hearken, all ye who have departed, and hear!
Lo, these are the wings of the dawn!
This is the work of unseen hands.
I beseech thee look, whom have eyes to see!