Eternality or lack thereof they call life, how I yearn to be in the arms of thee… Resting ever so gently,calmly play your tenuous tune; a small fae’s whisper:

‘Times marching arrow Is a deep deep blue’

Eternality or more-so mortality I carry around on my back like two teenagers in love with a suicide pact. I see you immortality, the soul wanting to live forever-ever so superimposing with the red fatty meat of my hearts beat beat beat. If not overflowing with the omniscient, god-like georgosity we all inherently yearn for, then what truly could I be? 

‘Human for naught be what you are..’ 

Oh beautiful fae, whisper sweet nothings as though the sleep you put me in were a sixteen year coma.