For there is a tint of sadness and a vial of delight. It maybe good or maybe bad. For why am I glad but, overflowing with sad. I feel remote like a controller. For these wings carry me beyond the clouds and to the sky. My home I wish to roam but, might I wish to stay. Would that mean to betray to my home? Betray my humble dome?
        For I have seen the light shone but, the dark awaits. Clouds will freight above no sun to show and then the dark will bulldoze. The streets wet, the muck, the slop, and it won't stop. Dryness will be the only thing to mop and it will began again.