The figment of a naïve imagination is likened to a complex system of underground roots.
How elaborate are your projected destinations?
The pathway is not dissimilar to that of one where angels fear to tread.
I have borne witness to flourishing palm trees as they float on their desert islands across planetary divides where the blue whale ***** her powerful wings across the atmospheres of dreamy lunar memories, galloping towards the origins of infinity.
I am grateful that the ancient spectre resides within the deep seated split of our sophisticated inertia.
Can I now pollinate your petals, where witches cast their spells beyond the castle walls and where the mare wanders in the depths of the forest?