Fair clouds leads through every future
keeping the presence to go on, on itself
A virtue with frail blood for which our trail,
the always worn cold trees have crossed to blind the nights familiar sky
The forest alone having the reflection it takes to ruin a face from clarity in its cradle
This reason rises only to the body
Whether we with hands in any age fingers an afar passing to the earths bonding threshold
the whole, still have a mans changed heart of nothing
to place ways to the delicate returning of the visible to all mornings
And with each and everyone
it is what it takes to prepare the fury