The power of reflection submerges a soul in purple words- identified royalty.
Realistically what has been written over the years is time’s past, set apart and less recognized. What I’ve come to realize is that time’s past is time’s present, seeing that living isn’t subject to breathing.
It’s justifying, yes? To send a sparrow out with a flock of crows, or to release an arrow aimed at the dove?
It’s enough to say what has past isn’t fair, but to mummify memories within constricting atmospheres, in order to construct atmospheric illusions? Then which is more prevalent, Justice or mercy? Life or death?
We shudder at the thought of completeness. To change it or embrace it, only to see that the pieces don’t fit; the point is then measured at nothing.
Fear poisons a mind and body, but royalty is dressed in a magnificent thought of creation. Mere considerations will cast a shadow of infinite possibilities, lest she cast her line beyond depth into shallow thinking.
Sinking beneath what was, what is, what could be, or what should be… Are we then clean, still standing in a pool of Red? Identified Passion.
To what do we owe power of the tongue? Enough has been done already.
We’ve Identified Royalty as the shedding of blood in white waters.