Purple clouds float through blood red skies, I fly free, on the wings of fireflies, over green gullies, feathery fronds, above the placid, black stone ponds, white-washed trees wave in the wind, under fire-scorched earth, my flight descends, o, the possibilities of a world without boundaries, clear, clean, cool is the water I breathe, my lungs fill with liquid, unlike a sieve, they hold every drop of sweet Adam's ale, allowing a gratifying, moment of exhale, disillusionment, fear, timidity, these three are the worst of all obscenities. so find the blank canvas that resides in your soul, create a reality from that memory film roll.
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