tread softly and adore, and know that these are the last fragments of paradise that surround you, however little, however obscure they may be. collect what you can of every portion of this universe until every blend of color, every whisper, every crack, every rhythm and harmony rests within you; the lapping of the water, gentle wings cutting through the stubbornness of the salted air. the quiet, gentle fall of a leaf, twisting and turning on his flight down until it settles softly on other withered bodies like his, not knowing how fortunate he was to have been inches away from the tangerine skies, the secret union of roots of different trees buried in the dark earth...somewhere not so far off ahead, in a meadow pure and blue, the florals let out their last whispers and bury themselves into each other, petal upon quavering petal. somewhere not so far off ahead the wine-dark sea charges against himself, captured by the tabernacle of his own waves. he calls out to the heavens, longing for nothing but the light to linger a little while longer. to cut through this dark tragedy that has become of him. we knew not the moment when all would be dark and lifeless, only that the light was fast and fleeting...