Thoughts as images are impure free. They are filled of the beautiful sky. Innocent. They marry destinies. In a universe that gives birth to lives.

One season. You live in a vacuum of time. Without the insecurities of the people touching every tomorrow. You dawn love.

An invisible thread. Ties the tomorrow with you. You never meet the end of it. A face. Can answer. Questions never asked.

Many in the centuries. Hermes of the few. Aspirations with compost lives. They bear bad fruit.

You do not know. Lost. You swim among experts. It's Babel. You glorify him.

You stop at the page. Life does not exist. Your words. They stand in a state of attention. Your order is not heard. History can wait. Breathe as much as you need.

Great thoughts. Shield to human resignation. You protect their source. Your own Eden.

You open and close your eyes. It is there. Beautiful. Doric. Your own moment.

You can. Walk alone. Kept got plans. You give no chance of failure. You're getting old just as crazy as you always were.