Crimson tide the waves float bye.
The tide crinkles like a dry raisin to moisten when the waves stroke beyond to the stones of eternity. A child floods to the king of the sea, a fish out of water or soon to be free. The water is coral from the split of the crown, he may not be breathing, but his heart is still beating. The clouds turn to an ash of pearly grey, only to unveil an alluring golden light. A mothers shriek beckons in the silent stretch of barren land. The heavens open wide to recall a white night, and lifts the boys spirit giving him might, He unwinds the mind of the boy who will sleep, and gently reveals a turning of time. His heart will always beat, but chains will break. Tomorrow he will die a death with much life.