Floating over the pomegranate skies
A land awakes and the sun dries.
Slipping away time like a third handed clock
Stopped to take stock of the moment.
Vested in glory and bequeathed with the light
A city of glory, weakens the mighty.
Shimmering candescence of altosphereic mass
Descends through the crackling sky.
Disambiguous now, the Son of Mans creation