The nights troubled all the gentle souls that walked the path of success, clouds walked within the glampse of the moon to the islands of the strange world they wondered of. Each day, they awoke to a new evolution; a change the are now settled with but yet to solve.

Like ants on a mission, they match the hot desert of time weighted on their backs with the remains of the elephant they believed was thier liberation from hunger. Along the long stretch they travelled, their souls complimented a buffet the sun serve to it master, "Rhea".

Little got home after a longs days job, but yet this was a routine of survival not rest, so on and no they explore the lands of beyond imaginations with ease.
Hold on, voices called from behind; behind the doors of ones memory, by sight many found treasuries yet as the saying goes, "the pulper builds no mission in the physical realm, but with the imaginary realm, he rules as a Lord of an empire, he eat from a golden bowl, drinks the nectarine of the world and walks a street rolled-on by all the luxuries of the physical realm he quest for

To be continued...................

Eben .K. Frimpong