Among rainbow-colored lands askew with fruit ripe and seeping springs wallowing on ancient forest loam I used to dream of the sky
Now I lay upon nail beds destined by shadows demanding legacies foretold by soothsayers with eyes clouding against the present
I am nothing change is something
Was I ever something
Abstract thoughts on a steady change I've noticed since my youth. At some point, I dreamt of spending my life within the confines of the unimaginable. Now, it's difficult to even imagine the unimaginable.