Three-Hundred Sixty More

A Poem by Ren

The darkest days are spent with this youthful disk
A smooth, centripetal carrier
A Red maple floor; brass erupting to the sky:
Painted of murals from the infant's eyes

Music that brings Cain and Abel to tears
A nonexistent memory, remembered.
Through the hammer and anvil, a euphoria
Casting the shadow aside for a ray

The haunted, majestic stallions
Taking the young to their safe haven
A destination from whence you came
A place only a child can truly reach

Name me the object to my riddle.

Welcome to your ultimate heaven
As day breaks, you prepare for the night time
Facing all that you're not afraid of
Picking your head up for a long-gone smile