Goblet of Nectar
Nectar is dripped over visages,
Its taste is ripened from vines,
Delicious rainfalls, each minute reaching taste buds.
Circus acts of thunder empower, imperial majesty is frightened.
Such juice will mutate into wings, imperial majesty breathes.
Nectar in the eyes of gray contemplation tastes nothing but water.
The goblet falls onto floor, crash.
Nectar spills and grabs to such agony.
The drink is the most beloved creature, also feared for prevailed truth.
Such alteration to sanity, an asylum is unnecessary.
People carry a kingdom over their eyes, the drink uncovers that mysterious transition.
Thunder is catastrophe, demonic behavior is overshadowed when emotions occur.
Wings are vigilant, angelic demonstration is destroyed when realism attacks.
Gray decides, struggles which side to fight on.
Evil can be used to flourish
Good can be used to bury
Nothing will ever decide who demons or angels are underneath skin.
Humans slice their struggles and victories for survival,
It is what makes humans strong, it is what makes them divine.