We drift in eternal space. A slow progression, a ghostly limbo. Light and darkness over water.
Eternal Space
Slow Drift
That strange, slow drift apart creeping and intangible. It's gradual, but you know, the relationship is undead. Tottering forward without warmth, or soul, or pulse.
Run Madly
Do not sit instead, run madly in a crowd of busy people. It is so easy to drift and rush, or rather, flail in aimless routine.
