Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
When the spirit had form
the time the muse danced
it traced its steps
using the faint light in the storytellers eyes
they thrived in a furnace
where the kindred slept
embers giving rise to the warmth of song
the blanketing of a voice
the stars flung so far into the eternal ink
One could weakly grasp and clutch only the trail
of a moment
the passing laugh, the hushed hello
the stillness of the quiet beat after the performance
this peace should only be disturbed
with the diviner of memory
the precious pause of the last few years
The King is ageless
his spectre pure in its remembrance
the King lives on in the shadowy brethren
the King illuminates and is in turn illuminated
by the ever lasting song
the gathering of the like minded
the tidal pull of the inevitable encore
A salute then for the man, the King
his endless energy, hemmed in by no earthly shore