imagination hanging from a fiber.
a figment of imagination hanging from a fiber off the universe’s fingertips.
the nights that madness shattered have become forgotten stories;
melted faces from memory forming a world that has long ceased to exist.
a figment of imagination hanging from a fiber off the universe.
dreams and nightmares blended with time,
good and bad become difficult to distinguish,
here and there can be exactly the same point.
when reality is relative, what is real?
a figment of imagination hanging from a fiber.
so, how does one remember the dream?
digging deep into original being, scratching energy off the universe’s ego
as past and future blur out the present.
a figment of imagination hanging.
angels with no wings or memory of them.
aliens staring at stars, hoping to return home.
answers to questions that aren’t important.
what is this, that humanity’s become, becoming?
a figment of imagination.
all goes on inside the walls of the universe’s dream.
none of anything really changes anything, none of the
characters are essential to the story,
and anything that happens is probably an accident.
a figment of.