Almost Red Hot rain drips down my back as the steam rises in a twisting only comparable to thought. Red, blue, and yellow raise thru my vision with a torrent of heat. The meshing of onlys make my life invalid and the presser of everys make me everything including alive and so much more. And so as to feel as a result I compensate in hope and believe regardless. To passion once held.

For in the end, I dream in purpose alone. For me with her is a purpose is it not. I scream unbridled as a lion without a mane. For if the pieces of me would only recognize our connection I would hold them close to myself. And should my heart run one way wile go another. I am the master I scream as chase my heart only to have it snatched up and me along with it. To dream to hate a heart. For in the end I dream of purpose alone.

Light is memory of you, “Owe my fallen self where have you been”. “I have been left behind” he ses.

“But how owe my fallen self and by who?”

“By you owe standing self head so high and feet unshaken you leave me behind only to die under your crushing shadow” he ses. “Not by me” I say grinning teeth and all. “Heart so tretchorus is the mind of he that doesn’t use it” He ses. “A heart in you?” I say. “A mind so conniving is the heart unchecked in places it should not be” he ses. “A mind in you?” I say. “A curse for you is my gift. Owe standing self you will feel all that I couldn’t as you let your heart breath you will choke as you should. As you stand you shall fall, as you you have fingers on my throat my hand on your heart will destroy you.” “Why would you say such terrible things owe fallen self?” “Because,” he ses, “a standing heart will never replace a fallen mind.”