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.