The day the rope was cut.
                                                      
The cave releases tears at a sleeping heart rate that form a puddle of a vivid memory with each drop echoing to the depth of it's darkness.

The riddles cause flashes of past, present, unwanted, unneeded, pictures.
                                  
Within the cave lies a dweller, who is woken by the silent, slow, sound, of the agony and pain. Jelousy takes cautious sips till all images are a plain reflection of the future with no lane.

One thing or another,
One day or tomorrow.
Those define what is something,
Other than anything that is or should be.

The mind correlates to behaviour and behaviour to the mind.
Stop, stare in great detail everything that is on sight. There is no vision without light, but be wary of the presence without the light to aid sight.

Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the devils foot;
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.

If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights
Till Age snow white hairs on thee;
Thou, when thou return'st wilt tell me
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear
No where
Lives a woman true and fair.

If thou find'st one let me know;
Such a pilgrimage were sweet.
Yet do not; I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet.
Though she were true when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two or three.

When the hair on your skin stands up, and water kisses it.

You gaze up to see a bird searching for food for it's children.

You realize that the raindrops are tears of hunger, and the cold breeze is the tormenting pain of struggle.

Dear Maestro,

Play a tune of life that I will never forget,
for damp is the soul in the cold bleak weather.
I thought of it many times afore;
peaceful is the peace of the end of greed and war.

My mind consists of thoughts, thoughts that envy time,
for it is clear that heavy clouds cover the future,
but that shall not stop the sweet zesty lime,
leaving the bitter taste in my mind.

I'm walking slowly, through a misty forest.
The trees are dampened by last nights cold breeze.
My breath is creating clouds of rain, that will wet the forest again.

I'm running, through a misty forest.
The trees are distressed.
My panting is causing disruption to the melody of nature.
Prints of my path are left for the next path creator.

I'm standing still, within the misty forest.
I cannot see any longer than the distance of the reflection of my eyes in your eyes.
These are the clouded thoughts, soon to be accompanied by dozens of lights.

Time my friend, you are faul but fair.
You want less of us but more,
You want more of those but less,
You always want but never need yet you transgress.

                                                  
Love, pain and greed. That defines mankind today, time is not on our side but this is life they say, they claim, they do and a game they play.

Disproportionate is time for it gives more to some and less to others.
Disproportionate is life as it carries on with the breeze like a dandelion