Ash and Smoke and Dirt and Sage

It stirs outside the window, staving off sleep. Kicks up the dust of whispers, charged with electricity. Neither moon nor sun will rise, blind to one thousand eyes. Scent of cinnamon, and clover. Pangs of water rushing over.. Swept up and twisted inside. Worn away and set aside. Left for dead, a bed of bones. Gone for good, turned to stone. Nothing of this world withstood.. Nothing could remain. It flooded in on piercing wings and broke the chains, freed us from our mortal cage.
Ash and smoke and dirt and sage..