There is a study of some interesting production
That says that continents drift, but I disagree,
Listen if you will to my theory it's of a sort
That is of a very different decree.
In the beginning a planetoid smashed into the earth,
It would later become our moon, it was larger at first,
This matchless form of damage caused a great impact,
From which would later be whole continents birth.
The lava that flowed would be enough to make
Whole parts of Pangea sink, and huge amounts of
Ocean would poor into, eventually be. But this is my theory,
Why when the damage was done the magma flowed
So much from such areas, it formed what is now the
Colorado mountains, as well as the whole of Australia,
Japan, and the Polynese. I know this is just a theory, but I'd put
All I have into simply wanting to believe. The truth is always
Out there, and this is simply what ideas that I conceived.

Mentally audible gasps and misty flannels
But she’s busy, dusting filthy wooden panels

Focus, is her every second sacred chant,
Her clad body sticking with sweat,
Yet there she is carrying out a bant,
Trying to sound cheery and buoyant

Music that is setting off sensations
Whereas, her ears are only brimming with static  
She glances at the leaves falling on the road
She couldn’t blame herself for being
aesthetic.

Do you still feel sorry
for your loss
everytime I cross your mind?

Do you still have grief
over my death
because I
am your unfinished business?

Do you still get the creeps
everytime you thought
you saw the ghost of me
when it was just your regrets
coming to life
to haunt you again?

Do you still visit
my tombstone
and mourn over the carvings
that my name made
on the stone walls of your heart?

Do you still want to dig me
out of my grave in your memory
and wish I had a proper funeral
instead of being buried
when I still lived
after you tried to **** me?

Because I do.

My ladyship, I will be your anchor.
Regardless of how turbulent you are
you will always be my exuberant star,
that emits romantic wavelengths from the light within my nebula,
imperceptible in the mundane skies of mortal-laden Terra.
I hope our connection won't explode like a supernova,
when this stellar romance is all over,
'cause my ability to exist will just corrode, implode,
and then I will automatically enter love sick mode,
because I lost the address to eternity's abode.