I was out again this evening
the prairie fields are already dying
my final farewell to summer, I suppose
Adventure of desire
turned to desire for adventure
I'll blame it on my horoscope and laugh
It didn't matter,
as long as I could still see the mountains
from the rearview mirror
I felt everything at once,
feeling swarming like pigments
before the muddy, brown crash
From omnipotence to pure isolation
A month of tired, restless hysteria
I may hold no expectation,
but still with my hopes I must be careful
As long as the void prevails,
I am my own creator
But the prairie is dying
and so I presume my morning routine