If the sky could speak

If the sky could talk what would it say? Would the cosmos wish to confide or advise? To withhold or deceive? My minds preponderance of thoughts that rave in the night. As l lie in bed. I like to believe the heavens bear no part in our many theatres of discourse. But if I should cull my own tongue and challenge my own volition. If I should rear back on my own reins and let slip my heart to be free and gallant in the face of true adversity. Would I then beckon the umbral twilight's penumbral visage to make stars into eyes? To make clouds into lips? To forge words with the whispers of its ancient depths? Would it then retort or concede? Should it favor the request of a simple man or exorcise the foolishness from him? Let the radiance from which the tears of zeus are made escort the words posthaste to the addressee. Let its godly might thunderously roar and cast a silence upon the multitudes that's influence assails the naysayers and fools to the bidding of their sins. The wretches come tremulous. Let the thunder avow to those in ambivalence. Moreover invigorate the oppressed of their own timid volition or cruel devilry the writes fiend upon them. But let its distant wails feign the song of nightingales. Should the sky have a voice, let it carry mine to you. So that I may carry the heavens to you. To bequeath the cosmos wrought from my soul to you. Would you wish such a thing? Or may I make my guileless declaration in a coalesced accord? A statement of conviction. Unadulterated, nude, and like the fine contours of stainless steel and polished brass that tango in glints of moonlight. I believe the firmament would be our witness.