You are the king of the kingdom, proudly conquering the 783rd ring on Saturn
You are the key to the frost but the devil to the flame
You are a lost sock not waiting to be found
You are the possibility of
A silent scream
A hot winter
And dry water
You are existing meaningfully but not living symbolically
You are the colour of an orange hidden in the earths layers
You are a bag full of vases trapped in a page of a book
You are the victim of a clown and a mime.
You are a moment in time that vanished
Just like as if a feather fell to the ground.
You are a character in a book that doesn’t know they are being controlled
Like a drop of water falling into nothingness.
You are a lonely grape that could brake any second like a lost star floating in mid space.