The reflection of the moon-
it was as if the dark old black lane had no trace of speed,
accept for the blue light.
It was a district that I had to cross upon,
to reach my destination.
I would meet some passers-by, which might share the same reason of existence,
a rule, maybe.
It was akin to having a stroll in a very individual's mind.
In this case, it's my own,
as one could utilize so much of the given space of imagination.
I made it mine, an underground personification.
Next thing I know,
I'm dancing in the realm of syncopation and tic tac strikes the spots of my rather lively-connected shell.
Soon after,
I left for the entrance from stage right.
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