In the presence of you all
I am the minuscule whimper
The pliable verdant sapling
Absorbing the sunlight
Devouring the moonlight
Chilled by the darkness and the winds of December

I await my moment of clarity in which echoes will become foreign, and I will deafen with discordant absurdity established by only me.
I await the stripping of the senses, to be ensconced within an elaborate dimensional fold, neatly tucked in plain sight for all to behold.

Yet I revel in dampened caves, in frostbitten hovels where my body grows restless, and my mind objects claiming we are timeless.
The thriving essence of that weary traveler with a tireless spirit
And every primeval music note I’ve salvaged from the stars I will use to compose my insanity
And you will hear it on windy days where the sea looks unusually reckless
And you will feel it during moments of transience
And you will see it lingering briefly when you witness your future
And during those moments of lucidity you will come to realize how far I’ve come from where I stood