Shake hands with the soul of my flickering shadow as it flitters around the confinement of paths which are visually observed by their myriad of sounds.
I can smell tragedy as it pervades the atmosphere, in the same manner as the keys of a grand piano echo their confident assertions with the resonating comfort of finality.
Can we have dinner together, and discuss those compensatory adaptations which are necessary to bridge the gap over crumbling cliff-top roads as they meander below our spirit with unnerving anticipation?
Let us continue to guide each other beyond superficial perceptions.
After all, we are allies.