September.
October.
November.
December...

In the still of 2017, memories that became of charged devastation appeared.

Fear once silent spoke aloud once again.
A man had the hands that sunk victims in sand.

A manipulated child contemplated suicide aside their heavy bed of memories.

Nothing out of the ordinary, however, nothing really pure either. Shadows seeping from the ceiling, hands crawling, demons singing.

A masterpiece of simple grief without an antidote any greater than time, and yes, that child did survive.

2018

January
February
March
April

Sound body, mind, soul, and heart.

The child from before had something to start and it caused him good glee.
Wonderful sleep. No longer any worries.
Obedient, silent, chain-defiant, the perfect client.

Just the tap on his wrist and a push on his temple.
He closes his eyes and wanders into a hollow memory.

May...
...
...

There are more journeys to come.
We will record his next most important one.
Until then, he must simply reboot.


Clean the whole tree, regrow from the roots.