Its the top of the morning and in all due time the reasons i corner will dew and resign. The grass is growing but the answers lay in waste. I can see the rotation and the phases of moon but never to know why i am frost in this room. Rhymes fill times as ****** as rust, the things we created technology and trust. I stand at the precipice of all know to date and watch as the human pretend are in solid state. The atomic it blends to molecular bonds as the matrix keeps churning the past and nothing, nothing here lasts...