On the crest of the wave I decided to sit down at my  14 year old escritoire

On the advent of spring I decided to
Fill up the moats in my backyard  

The quill in between my fingers commemorating the fall of the mighty empires when I was actually rubbernecking the flowers I filled up the ditches with.

Two universes in my mind helpings shape intricate designs and the inkwell acts as a magnet attracting my soul to get lost within these paradoxes

If I walk towards the palaces the kings will ask me to extemporise tricks of which are on my finger tips

If I walk towards the patio I will fall into the area next to it and be buried beneath the flowers

Met with an accident 20 years ago when I was thinking of neologisms
when I was thinking of atypical aphorisms
when I was lost in between the metaphors.