You are the impossibility of stardust,
dancing across the galaxy.
You are the memory of your father’s war,
lost inside a forgotten heart.
You are the memory of lost souls,
wandering the Earth.
You are the smell of The Gorm’s foul breath,
wafting through the air.
You are a scared goldfish, swimming frantically,
from the cat’s jaws.
You are the sound of Podkin’s lost ear,
impailed under a spike.
You are the impossibility of the beginning,
marking the end.