Swirling in some distant place, the heart a place of birth, flying free from weighted space, that tethers dream to earth...
Toad wriggled through a dream sequence, the one where he's at home, he swears it only seems pretence, that he is not e'er alone...
Such fortune is so rare to see, he's hopping proudly with his wife and brood, how is it this has come to be? when life afield is pestilent and crude...
Zigging left, then zagging right, extends himself to fullest height, the ones beheld now in his sight, imply the world is coming right...
But then a thought so deep and dark, idyllic scenes don't ever last, consigns us unto choices stark, to render futures free of pasts...
Rare smiles e'er fading far too soon, as warm suns fall from the sky, we're left cold beneath indifferent moons, to forever wonder why...
Or how it is we manage time, that scenes like these forever stay, make permanent our rare sublime, that those we love don't go away...
An idea curling like a star, around the planet where we're mired, peering in at Toad from way afar, an idea that's not weathered nor is it tired...
Toad grasped at it, as if his own life, depended on it's realisation, he hopped away from brood and wife, unto some dreamer's desolation...
He somehow knew that it was the one, the idea after which they'd so long sought, means by which to end the continuum, of lives with endings too long fraught...
But beyond dream, in waking space, one of Sullen's band bestowed a fart, a bubbly one, in Toad's own face, it killed idea, and froze the heart...
Abruptly banned from dream's idea, come cold unto the dawn, subverted by that old Gaea, mortals e'er the ancient's pawns...
Whilst far away on his own stone, Keeper scratched at absent eyes, some bright idea left him alone, beneath early raging skies...
He'd captured just enough of it, twixt earholes left and right, then diagrammed some scheme that fit, dimension, breadth, and height...
He rose, as his bones they cracked and creaked, pale morning come at last, across the sky deep colours streaked, like the dying after the past...
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