Remember it not.
Oblivion, Let it slide into cave.
The annual rings of old wood are hurting.
Tree of life burning inside.
It cannot happen, it can happen.
There is no certainty, this is certainty.
Bread with hoofs, no butter, no udder, no milk.
A spider in the bottle slumbers on gaint legs
watches with red eyes.
Time to feed.
The aroma of sea.
Pungent smell of brown algae the bathing moon,
a lone boat.
Did you know why I admire defeat, retreat:
Perfect solitude, featureless calm.
