Herding my dreams like a flock a sheep, letting thoughts seep out onto the green pastures. Raptures all around, the sky splitting with no sound, the noise scaring the shepherds blood hound.
In idle thought I sit, to active silence i listen, woolgathering on the foreground of the breakdown of my world.
In the stupor of jagged dreams I admire what is left, I sit dazzled by what chaos could bring upon a world so perfect.
Astonished I fall, absentmindedly I dive far beyond what I saw and felt.