Thoughts in thousands journey through the mind… some alight and some fly...

Those that perch are forever in labour, waiting to be delivered to life…

Once out into the light, they grow into attachments…

Attachments connected by a line…

My Kingdom of attachments…with a line

With a simple line, I bore an attachment.

My hand, my tool, my key to connect with a line a canvas... drawing the arrival of thoughts.

My black the justice on paper, in which holds and folds the line.

My wise snake. My fear celebrates the thought of being.

My tree… the being in me... my mother … my great love.

My crown... The crown of ego headed upon the mind, a mind full of thoughts... They are online.

I am in silent labour, delivering without a noise...