Micah Park Biffle

Ascending Memories  We ascended with our feet upon the ground. Gathering up our thoughts like broken sticks, placing them in our bags to tell of later. We were silent as we climbed, hand in hand, silence at heart. Wearing red to signify the blood of our fallen hearts.  Our eyes reflected of the dark, as the rain poured with misery as we coated our hearts black. Ivory keys of woeful tunes played as we tried to piece ourselves together. We ascended higher and higher, but the terrain only became worse.  Vines bared thorns as roses of translucent petals hung like fingers of relaxed limbs. A few times our flesh came torn by the prick of thorns. The roses took to our blood, and what was once translucent became red.  Once our altitude was beyond the view of earth, the clouds became thick. Dense like the waters of the ocean. The beat of our blackened hearts grew louder through the density of these dreary clouds. We clasped our hands together, as not to lose one ...