recognition

The ocean has a tiny eye, what does it see?; the wishlist of a man. I could have sat on a footless hope, reminiscing how I will visit the ocean someday to see my hopes flow with the waters, yelling at me to let go of life. Sometimes, the vulture is unhappy he'd eat a dead human, it want to eat it with a living soul and a lengthy mind. The serene panorama of a crystalline heaven is a promising life for me, another way to resolve a forever discourse with the soil is to accept the rustling wind eloping the dissipated sand when the grave finally accept my non living skin. Even the soil knows the smell of my skin and it will stop my dying breath underneath the infested earthlings. I'd win when my antecedents are raised in their old memories, I'd win when the screams of my paternal ancestors echos and I will keep the world pacing away to a subtle land. The significance of a rounding world is that it connects the penury and the wealthy together, lays them on thin line of compatibility and inclination, through this, I perceive humanity as a figure desperate to go back to its initial image.