Hello again. Here is another poem i had written one oddly cold morning in the city i live in where it was still before the faintest rise of the morning sun. I was sitting down on a dark paved trail that runs through the heart of the entire county, and this section had no lights, no houses, and no roads even close to it. Yet the nearest city lights could still be seen from where i was sitting. I was alone there, and there i wrote this entire thing while sitting there viewing this. I hope you all enjoy and send some constructive criticism if you have any. :)

"With the white fog floating just outside my mouth when i breath, I'm still able to see the world through it. I exhale at the sight I am witnessing, and my ears twitch at the noises. I see in front of me a black wall, a wall that stretches from the floor to the ceiling and expands not only straight up, but curves all around me. To the left i see another cloud of white, almost as if the world itself exhaled on this cold night but merely the faint light of the distant city, glowing a constant stream of light that fades as it goes up. I look upwards to escape the glow and i stare at the black ceiling just above me. I realize it isn't all black, but covered with dots as if white splattered paint covers it entity. I knew i was seeing something beautiful, but i could only find out the truth of its wonders thats buried in a boys first book of the stars. Something then caught me off guard, the noise. I hear it, never getting louder, never going away. It was as if the sound of blood moving through the earth but with no pauses, no pumping, but a constant flow as if the earth didnt have a heart for the sound that was being generated. A sound so soft, finely tuned for me to listen more. I raise an ear to hear and look up once again to the ceiling. They coexist ya'know, looks as if they were both created equal to mix with one another. I'm no longer sitting in a black box. I was sitting in something curved, something teaming with beings and yet alive itself. Breathing and moving as if it were me."