The Wall...IIIrd Rose

-aND tHEN i wAS tOLD

We sat together and watched the sunrise.
Brilliant topaz and orange sparkled and alit our eyes with fire.
I remembered feeling like this as a child.
I remember feeling like this when I was happy.

As the sun falls, my vision turns bloody, and the sky is raked with maroon.
Scales of red stroke the Empyrean above.
The clattering existence of the world dies away.
I remember feeling like this when I was alone.

So quiet he sang, words on air, the meaning trite.
“What does it mean to be loved anymore? We’ve lived for so long” He asked me.
We’ve lived for so long…We’ve lived for so long.
The words burned like the fire that shattered across the sky at daybreak.

Blues, there is none anymore, all we see is the fire of day, the blackness of night.
I remember waking up centuries ago and seeing the sky for what she was worth.
“…Aoi Sora.” He always mumbled to me.
He would slide down into the listless night in a carefree manner and walk solemnly.
My eyes aglow with the pale moon’s intimate light would follow his mysterious figure.

“It doesn’t always have to be like this…” I spoke softly.
The sky is always black. He never apologized for doing it.
“The sky is always black…You made it this way for me.” I would respond softly.
The soft caress of wind shifted as I plumed my drug, the soft orange glow intensified like fiery coals before dying away as I pulled it from my lips.
This is when I saw him again…

And then I was told, “I made it this way for us…” he spoke.


Monty is yet again in another of my pictures...Fara is the one against the wall, dead, lifeless, because he is THAT doll-like. Here, we see Monty in all his glory in actual Men's clothing, pressing his life into Fara, desperately getting the cold, frozen boy to come back to life, but alas, it is no use. His feverish attempts are thwarted and Fara become part of the still-life wall and scenery of dingy London.