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.