Continuous is the continuum. The never ending story. Oblivious to oblivion's din, Because I cannot believe in fables about former glories. A lack of faith in myself, has caused this Hell And all the daisies are so far away. Chrysanthemums smell of the earth I am told. I would not know, I am wrapped in my box, For living life day to day. Locks upon my lid because there is nothing inside worth stealing. Words are all I haveโฆexcept for the dreaming.