Triangles and ornate shapes

Peer through the jaded glass

The tints of red, green and yellow,

Reflecting upon the chamber floor

A once barren land

Stricken by bloodied hands

Where the oranges fade

Into the greens and blues

Eternities of stone

Forever to atone

Our actions no more

Light piercing through the core

A pastoral scene with pastel

The King of Kings resides

Though his power fades

Chrysanthemums bloom 

Phantasmal forms

Whither away in the Green Bay

Where the celestial light did shine

Down to meadow grove and stream

Around the everlasting fields

Of cold hollowness

Where dreams

are made.