When my soul aches, my spirit asks for inspiration. Something one-of-a-kind; something dynamic; something sublime. To take a present darkness and generate it into prisms of splendor. A gift, a sacrifice of self; to transfer from spiraling down to that hole in the ground where I hide, to soaring above the treelines and the clouds; pouring out like a drink offering to the crowds confronted with sackloth and ashes.
