He saw the stars and the countries of the world, the glories, graces, and graces; he saw Ireland, he saw what he most wished for. Where was it from? He knew not.
But for all he saw, his eyes darkened to the power of fear; his skin tingled with the death it afforded. When its power crept upon him, his limbs clattered amongst themselves, as death made short work of his flesh, and dried his bones until they sounded of Death’s own foul socks.
Darkness went on vacation, drinking martinis and eating caviar; it cut all ties with the land, and made its ways that of the island. Its holiday was indefinite; not merely infinite. It would return, somewhere in the breath of infinity, but the light was golden.
The boy woke, suddenly, stupifyingly more than he ever previously was. Words came from fearful tongue, rattled the cold air, which, unnerved, unready and utterly, utterly faithful, carried all the heart and soul they were made for unto distant, far fairer eardrums.
What estate is this, words cried, baffled midflight; we fly and resound, oh so softly.
What life have we now, they murmured in fearful wonder. Oh! the light we finally feel.
Words learned the weight of tears and of laughter, and the immense gravity of themselves.
The words were proud, for ever so slight a moment; they smiled and laughed in the air, sending astounding life into the world’s grey, cobwebby corners.
They lived. Their life was not short, as they once again found heart, and knocked with abounding vigor thereupon.
The heart was silent for a moment, patient and thoughtful in its still.
The heart burned, but the words would not say why. They were captive to the heart.
!Noah!
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