Imagine this place, that is in my heart
Where drops of lilacs bloom, fall through the air.
If tear drops are shed, it's not grief, it's art
So majestic, on par with a white mare.
Suddenly. Reality knocking down
Doors; pillaging; destroying; bombastic!
Angels fly, observing, suddenly drown.
This world has become iconoclastic.
The choir now sings, voices piercing the shroud.
Burning through chaos, restoring order
Erasing traces of the mushroom cloud.
Freezing this sudden manic disorder.
