Pink Pixelated Skies

The world we craft.

Through pink pixelated skies
we effortlessly glide

Seeking our only perfection


Constructing on dawn’s clouds
ionic towers of silver shrouds

In hopes to hasten the last surrection


Defenders of our constructed fragility
saviors of our personal humility

Night has arrived with its demons in tow


A call to arms is proclaimed
scattering salt among the grains

Soldiers raise your polished electronic bows

Blood pillars of our brothers’ fixation
absolved among cautious adulation

As terrible exhaust blankets their command

Descend fifteen rewards of preservation
upon those seeking immaculate ascension

For the illuminous have fallen by Men

Now again we will glide
we few who have survived

Effortlessly through our pink pixelated skies