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.