After studying the prophesies of the monarchy I embarked upon a mission in the direct opposite direction of my jurisdiction. The journey took exactly 7 and 3/4 seconds to complete, and suddenly I was in a situation so strange, I spun from safe to sorrowful and back again. I decided to rest my legs from the same downward force that pulls my dreaded headress to my neck. Seated on stones, I produced a knife and wood block to carve a figurine which I would command to come alive and perform minor acts of mischief at my whim. After meticulously forming a pair of legs, I was approached by a stranger, without slowing his pace, he warned me that this could be our final moment, so we had better remember it. I felt violated when he was out of sight, how dare he rain on my parade? If this world does end, I'm not going to cling to this existence with white knuckles.

I ran after him, to argue that a moments memory is worthless if we have no more moments to live. He nodded contently, as I ran in front of a moving vehicle to see the sidewalk scene in front of the bars and hotels.
After bouncing in cirlces, I returned to my resting place, and wrote my last poem, and left it in the world.