SALVATOR MUNDI BY LEONARDO DA VINCI

Does the empty sphere
Tell of mans last days
A cleansed earth
Of his evil ways
From murk and shadow
Within a  frame
Christs return
In focus came.

Raised fingers
To bless or warn
From the skies
A phrophecy born
Alchemists bowl
A hungered greed
A hidden history
Time which bleeds.

Optic Heavens
Seen by few
Except the artist
In visions brew
Its mystery
A lashing tail
Of foreboding
Within its frame.