Written by Isla Walker
Art by Sebastian Beck


                   Tree of ivory harmony.
Its roots all tangling
                   and twisting
                                      around the necks
                   of fallen purities,
turning them
                                      blue with sorrow,
                   squeezing their
shattered-like-porcelain souls,
                                      coated in lost
                   vermillion and salty rivers,
clinging onto the last hope
                   before the fall
                                      and soaks
                   into the molten soil
along with the husks
                                      of innocents
                   and the misunderstood
while the grinning
                   arrogant subjects
                                      and abusers watch down
                   from the fluffy,
pearl clouds
                   of angelic laughter
                                      lined with gold.