Please, good sir, do not hold me to the standards of my past.

Whittled away, I am approaching the infinite axis.

I’m only a ghost of who I was in previous moments.

Please don’t take the footsteps I tread yesterday

And fit them under the shadow that falls in front of me.

Though I find them both as extensions of myself,

Lying flat across the bare crest of the Earth,

They are destined to never be the same.