JOSIAH BERLIAN

To the Moon

If you’re patient enough to read this stuff, you’ll be getting the unfiltered works. The silent melody of hope, lurking in shades of black and white.

And boy do I hope that you catch my drift.

Bump.

That’s all it is.

All.

A game, no shame – with stakes eternal… Feed the flame.

Slam.

My time is short, what fear is this?

Folly.

The fool of old, perhaps, his word was gold?

Fall.

And here began eternity, in fall it’s always been – summer, winter, spring and you.

Fire.

Light up. You do have a choice.