tranquil.....

The quills moved
The parchment filled.
Black colour adorned.
A message written.
Making its way,
Into the hands.
Slowly opened with care.
Lifting the folds gently.
The looking glass peers,
With a white glow of
Black coloured etches.
As it slowly moves,
Down the parchment,
A tiny hint of a glaze.
The watery kind.
Awaiting the hints,
Of a rocking deluge.
Lo! behold it begins,
Torrential drops of water,
Falling on the parchment.
The black etches fading to
Watery remnants of grey.
The parchment gliding down.
Accompanied by a thunderous rapture.
As if thunder struck in the soul.
The deluge stopped and the glaze vanished.
The looking glass hovering away,
The last bit of drops stuck.
With signs of more drops to come,
A sense of calm settled amidst.
The looking glass,
shutting its black pearls.
Heaving a sigh of breath,
Trying to have one peaceful stroke.
Of what it feels to be transcended.
Everything stood still.
Everything became tranquil.
Only the name on the parchment
Had vanished into,
The horizon of oblivion.
Never to return,
The soul aches forever.
Realizing being tranquil
Was the only way to let go.