The morning is a moment of promise for us all.
Burn 2 Pawn Portraits to receive the cinematic piece to Good Morning. The edition size will be determined by the number of burns (max 333 editions, only if all Pawn portraits are burnt).
The burn window is open until Sunday, October 22nd.
Still some Pawn Portraits left on primary https://emprops.ai/projects/pawns-take-the-throne-portraits
“Sun drowned the night,
Though time at days rest,
Is the twilight of my torment.
There is still the restless impermanence of my being,
And the storm which the sky sent,
Before my soaring soul laid to rest,
I put this letter in a bottle.
For one last message is a page worth sending.
The reflection of dawn off the river,
Is time’s mirrored reflection unto me.
The gasping angel which sunk into night’s blistering shadows.
Made the treasures of youth,
Nothing more than the carousel of my imagination.
Righteous blackening hue,
Black ashen mountainside,
You are the other half of me that I must find.
There’s been enough golden flower beds glowing in our imagination,
That the wind gusts breathless.
Wether we match the weather,
Storm clouds match the sweeping seas.
The guys of all vibrations to destiny,
And what I ever thought possible for me.
The matchsticks match the makers,
And Venus made a glance.
His waist coat, the suit cut marble,
In the light the flowers dance.
Submission to the night,
The rose petals are soaked.
The Sun drowns behind the statue,
And the faded promise that today would be different is gone.
Giants in the rain as he gallops by the lake,
That leads to Elysium’s gate.
Ghosts on the wave at night,
Wading shorelines,
Artisans cut the vines,
The life at sea,
Mystics sleep in the rain.
Fall in love again, and again, and again,
Constant unending refrain.
Drop the curtains so I can feel love again.
You don’t know where my heart is,
It’s in an envelope on the way back to where we started.
While some lives will be changed forever,
Believe in yourself and the walls will fall heavier,
Can you know from a single day?
A single kiss?
Could it be so simple,
To simply say the words,
Although it sounds absurd,
To simply say the words.
A world collides in a verse,
All the trinkets of her purse.
Turn your back where beauty is forsaken,
And an ever widening way be laden,
For the bloom shall arise as the faithless descend,
And the bloom that’s in the air is always changing,
Never permanent.”
Laurence Fuller, 2023