Come on now, lad. Be it seconds, minutes, hours, decades or eons, you're still the needle on the clock.
The once beautifully written melancholic symphony for the two of you to orchestrate . Yet it's so pure in its divinity.
And her voice he illustrated it to be as the the angelic type, though he never met, not to mention heard an angel's voice.
But it was her purity, her altruism, her desires, her beauty shrouded with innocence that compelled him to this angel.
His defilement all obliterated in an instant when he was lifted by her chant.
However, it was only a historical play that entered in his mind with the director asleep when the tape was rolling.
Flee now, my dearly beloved angel..
I wish it was me..
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