The cave or cavern is a moss and cloth,
I adventure, I admit, and I escape to slip away;
Back in the days of the cephalopod,
My mighty eyes beheld a prey.
The ceremony of the cerebrum
Enticed the work of the whole area of concern.
For my brain had other pains,
As asylums vanished after the cares of a day.
Where or when was the antelope?
In my life, whereabouts?
It has asymmetry, power and fact,
To stay a minute in satanic collision.
This anecdote committed to the heart
Manages an anchovy of brilliance and taste.
The hybrid of the sea creature
I witnessed with full glory and state.
Where do we combine a minor symbol
With a major sign?
The caves are again in ready heat,
Chills and cold weather are forsaken
By the world and earth.