I am compelled to say the least that I shall not speak of my lustful fervor any longer. I have once said that the passion encased in my heart shall not be forgotten and that it were no light switch to match the threads sewn deep within parts of my heart to ever let I forget those feelings had I once reaped for my own growth. To be a man like I is to dine life with cold slender fingers and one perceptive sharp brow.

It is quite evident that I have grown and surpassed such petty childish formulations. I turn life on its hind, define bigots and the enamored in a whole totally new perspective. Very unorthodox. The rivers and rocks that inhabit beneath shall admire me for I am unchanging. Wishes and dreams are washed away like the Autumn leaves that fall during Spring. It’s not Autumn but Spring… It’s not a full moon… It’s the wrong time within the right moments. Like I, wishes are washed away like a paper boat set free during heavy rains by an innocent child. Wrong time within right moments. I am Autumn.

No longer shall I verbalize one sentence, word or thought upon this fickle situation. It has not been a waste but it has been dreamful for the allure that stages and sings to I within thee sleep. I wake upon it like I do with little thought as the air fills my lungs to full capacity. Exhaling, I feel and note nothing of odd and nothing of all. I had be denied of most simple things and I shall sweep this underneath my dining carpet and done with saids I.

I end my journey here, I end my stake there, I’ll keep and eye out for more. The allures of life yet may still await. No longer shall I hold such peace at heart and no longer shall I hold the owner at will. You are free from my view and I no longer look through stained glass. Like the breeze that blows sand off sidewalks, I am the sand and not the breeze.