Imagination is chasing. There is magic here, undiscovered by me, I am sure. Living in beauty and not the depths and constraints; the death of imposition! I am for the light that marches, dances as I walk. In an arpeggiated air, the furthest from the humanity I see. You scar the face of purity. Your shadow obscures reflection, there is no place for innocence.

What is innocence to you?