Through the window
Am I predestined to see order through an historical perspective or a universal objective? Through the window things appear so sublime but despondency sets in over time. What I see through the window anew ,alas, seconds later diminishes from my view. No constant notions pervade my thoughts, instead equations amounting to naught. Through the window no answers for me lie, but when it stares back at me it asks why. Through the window is a prism but also a mental schism resulting in self-derision.
I implore of you never to cast your gaze through the window too long, for all can go wrong.