I thought it was for instance then. Getting into words slithering and scathing upon the curve of letters that brush an rub upon the weary eyes that have seen the days and night. Lengthening and shortening as my hands pursue them like upon the dust on earth thats hot the sun that send its injure. The above rays and beam that from afar the distance draw nigh. The flexing and engulfing upon the thought of settling upon the questions that interest the soul.
The scrubs and the shrubs resisting the journey the end unknown the in-between untimely by the thought of up climbing the tree. Encircling and embracfing the branches that seem to attach the soul and the heart upon the waves of wind that fascinate the existence on earth. Nature been the thought of exiting the earth.