Congratulations, Michelangelo!

There is a forever apart from infinity
An eternity not withholding in its mystery
There is a long grey beach extending along an endless scene
Where therein, if I stare long enough, I see the sea drain inside of me
There is a stage where the microphone instead clings to us, to nervously speak
Or, rather, stands as unsurely, as anomaly, and pleads:
Is death an allegory of my terror, of a never-ending sky?
Whilst I'm lain in the ground, gazing up at a whimpering cloud
I'm suddenly undone, by the sight of a Heaven so vivid, so tangible
Yet definitively renaissance-era in style