I'm mopping the glass floor of amassing windows. Staying close to the back of never lasting peices.
   Wasting reasons on conceptions,buried beneath the plot.
Who loves to letine to storys.
  But don't listen.
Caressing clouds shifting in optimistic winds, a price of wasteful thinking, becomes me.

I'm amidst the middle of the the great mist of trouble,making a masterpiece out of mud.
  I taste the rug in the dust on my tongue,clasping for a fresh breath.beasting emotion poking around,in the toasted taste,generation last place.
  My figure of speech spreads wiseley on a white sheet.
I'm popping balloons one by one. in big tiny vision,clouds shed fur, becoming manic blur.

A peaceful step
A meaningful dream
Will it last,this uncommon.
Once again
Could I be living in something.
I should already be aware of.
I've forgotten where I was?.
What is.
It? That I'm constantly aware of?.
I can see light through an objective,or does it begin in the front?.
Light?,moves faster then darkness.
Because it only has to wait.
I can relate,I'm a constant state.
Contemplate,instigate.
Negative estate,...most in habitable,in incompatible..
Almost feels in-habitable.
It's elastic,
It's because what comes?.......,
Will make the best sense of nothing.
Conception lays,
How much? Yarn? do I have left?.
My grammar,... is rocky because, of hills gloating, amongst my step's.
Can? You too,
Find meaning,
When realized?
You could be void
Elasticity commands.
Least in demand.
Look!,.......
As you will.

I got lost in translation, Shooting words,into the night sky
I've missed the important notion,dotted in the the lights eye.
I've become corrected,standing amongst the nights sky.
I've pondered the wondering soul.
Lasting impression,figured control.