It would seem that in a darker time again the manied options for the wind to blow have changed direction in the past iteration and the manied things there to do and don’ts make pious and won’ts make riots in the lossy glare of the sunlight toward the outer planets.
Many times of this a lasting feeling lastly leastly less than more of moors in darkest waters of emotional clouds and motivated crowds instead of fighting for the light unseen the war between the brief moments of clarity after hangovers made of untold aggression and warlords with screaming voices in their heads for none are there and none aware and much are both aligned like moons of different worlds where the reflections come at night to the leaves on the winding wind and winter great lakes.
To my surprise the rest of clocks twice wrong and unwound in witless sleep of happenstance and circus dance betrayed by intervention and speechless sake of mention the heavy size of lake like ocean pressing shores farther from all time before has deepest shallow shorelines and so distant from the north the greying scathing entombing and consuming tide brings undertow to abandoned darkness where my misery sleeps with me.
As this breaking sunlight that somehow can’t cut the deep breaks thru the silver lining of sulphur clouds and breaks against the waves for waters as millions of broken windows between the glittered stars and the unreachable deep and for all the sounds to keep beneath the current and its darkness reflecting never think about beneath the many waves that grind against the moonlight like a holy dragon’s teeth by the countless mists of diamonds too many to count or reach.
If I were a bear, this hibernation could be a surprising end to a season without reason to bother waking, and for this I wonder how they keep talking in their sleepwalking for all the sense they think they make.
@swehttamxam