Green grass surrounds me with walls covered wretchedly in wounds and forgotten memories.
Walls with no life or soul yet still with uncontaminated images.
Corresponding with Layers concealing each other as if it were the earths crust.
Stories and images dance around its body, emerging into a canvas of thoughts and dreams that once were.
Not lost, but forgotten.
New memories and stories oppress what was once treasured.
Cold to the touch, warming by every hug,
It is not the end but only the beginning as hope will come in time.
