The visions are terrifying, and when they come to me,
they bid me to create awful things...
things inspired by an apparition of persuasive evil.
Yet, amidst them all...
there is still one faint glimmer of hope -
an image of lasting beauty that comforts my tortured mind.
While I cannot decipher the meaning, nor recall it's purpose,
I've secretly employed my talents to recreate this vision,
hidden under the guise of darkness from the One that seeks to unhinge me.
If my effort to do so proves successful,
I may still be saved after all....
I see flowing waves of golden hair dancing softly over a gentle breeze. The delicate tendrils frame the flawlessness of an angel's face, concealed partially by a half mask of pure white porcelain adorned with halcyon decor. A pale sunrise spawns over a landscape of rolling countryside behind her. The grass amidst her feet, caressed by the first kiss of winter's silver frost. Her piercing aqua eyes - how haunting they are... vividly apparent from within their encasements, they sear into my own, causing an intense, unwavering gaze. They seek answers... answers from my soul - to which I regretfully have none.
Her slight frame stands motionless as a statue, wrapped elegantly in fine white linen to it's end; a long and flowing train snakes away into broken stalks of overgrowth, still producing the sweet aroma of autumn's last breath.
Then, her blank expression changes, the crease of her lip turns upward to an apprehensive smile... and for one moment I am witness to a dream, warm and basking in that sudden turn, unashamed, accepted, yet strangely unaware of her identity.
It is here that I wish for the vision to cease - yet it does not. However, this one moment... is perhaps a sign... a beacon... one saving grace, so minute against a backdrop of terrifying thoughts, yet so poignant... that I must somehow find a way to always recall it... or manifest it.
...and then I realize, She is my daughter... my savior.
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