Recalled time lost many ages ago,
Black-fur dons his skin.
Each perspective wavers to pass,
All before and once again.
Outside or inside, the box holds no mysterious presence.
No enigmatic cur, not a single branch.
Fortuitously confined by societal normality,
A past most wished rescind.
Deranged, an attempt to asphyxiate begins against
The padding of the room you\'re in.
Chromatic linen laced in the river,
Spreading far amongst all that\'s known.
Ambiance obligingly mended, the reflection in the water
Shows naught but how much you\'ve grown.
If left is right, and right is wrong,
Simply go down the middle