If you were to place a white box in my room,
You would be able to see the colours of my life passing through.
From pitch black to deep red hues,
It's like a year passes through.

But rarely would we find such a solitary white object.

Grrr...
The wheels rumble along the smooth paved road,
churning blades of air trying to pry away intruders.
Far off in the distance there is a warm hearth,
Far off in the distance there are people.

Swearmp...
Now the phalanx of trees defend the territory,
Pointing out their spears of wood to a never-ending empire.
Anxiety rises within me,
As I climb higher and higher towards the zenith of it all.

Bump...
A momentary pause as the swarming army stands still,
The pace slows down to reveal a turning at the corner.
Rising up for a moment with our feet firmly on the ground,
And we swivel and turn with inertia.

Pitter... Patter
Now the heavens are against us,
Drizzling down and chasing the ground.
I play referee and look out my window,
As millions of tiny droplets live in anarchy.

Sigh...
Back home this chaos is common,
As hundreds rival against each other and vandalize.
But unlike these droplets who bond after each interaction,
We segregate into ruinous multitudes.

Honk...*
Snapping back into reality an eerie silence is home,
The soldiers of nature which before looked menacing,
Extend their handshake to welcome us into their lair,
Where a white queen with a pointed nose,
Has her finger resting on the world.

Time stands silently still,
As I lay beneath the sultry sun.

It's as if my mind is the shutter of a camera,
Clicking away pictures in four dimension.
The time intact within my mind,
And my senses alive with hunger.

I see women beneath me,
Gossiping away the neighborhood's private affairs,
The men are forever tangled in the construction sites,
Clashing machines on pavements,
Metamorphosing ideas of paper into reality.

I can hear the river running steadily by,
Reminding me of that lonesome night,
When something so precious,
Withered away in its powerful embrace,
Forever lost to ever be doted again.

I can feel the dust settling in on my clothes
As the air of the city surrounds me,
With resounding cries of the busy vehicles,
Set against the majestically stark callous mountains,
Embracing me as if for the last time.

Closing my eyes,
The picture is slowly starting to complete.

It's like the dialog box appearing in the computer,
Showing you the time left for the process to complete,
and when it is, you are relieved of anticipation,
left with the file forever stored in your memory.