Follow like the mist of the morning I'm yawning but my eyes are wide, the dew on the leaves seem boring, I cried but not from a place of sorrow I follow the luminous orb to a place: a place so far away from grace.
The cliffs are divided by gravel I'll travel the rest of the ways tomorrow, for the light prods a horse with a saddle I watched the birds fly over my way. I hear the chirps barricaded by trees I'll see to it that I'll sail the seas.
The song echoes, I hear nothing but breathing, the colours taste bland and there I was reaching- for one glorious moment where it all made sense. I commend those who travelled these cliffs that were eclipsed by the deadliest woods.
I smell something sinister yet reminds me of me, I smell something like the smell of flesh on water, I smell nothing. I fear, I smell nothing.
I see one last projection of the illuminating orb, as it transforms into a night sky of stars, I'm afar from them, but I can feel them touch me. The warmth I reminisce on, reappears, I fear I can taste colours and smell roses, I fear I can hear the birds beyond the trees, I hear them just fine, and I hear more than that; I hear my heartbeats, I've beaten the cliffs eclipsed by dangerous woods.
I have no idea what I'm writing, because I sort of drifted out- but as long as I'm drifting in and out, I am happy.