Bury me under the waves, that I may feel it pulsating, if not in my veins.

Lift  me to the clouds, that I may be rendered at peace, if not in my thoughts.

Incarcerate me in fire, that I may learn to feel, if still my frozen heart beats.

Plant me with a seed, that I may blossom through the winter chills, if I have not strength.

Above all, tell me I am real.
Be it that I am a figment of God’s imagination.