Balm

Drowning in the torrents of crystal waters that will merge with cerulean oceans.

Your perfumed forests and fields of gold are calling to me.

An amethystine horizon above ancient trees.

Purity.

Spectra glistening across the skyline.

Drifting.

A hawk takes flight into the elysian shades.

Prismatic stars illuminate the foliage.

Fading.

The wolf howls on an ashen hill.

Winds of autumn gust forth.

A last glimpse of a saffron sun and an alabastrine moon.

Lulled to sleep.

Sensing peace.

It's so beautiful under these raging streams.