the empires of our infancy, the rocks of our childhood, and the streams of our adolescence, are gone- soaring with the wind- they have been trampled upon- obliviated. and our empires are now gardens, the rocks mere pebbles and the streams only storm drains- the house of sand collapses... the promises of our infancy, the potential of our childhood, and the hopes of our adolescence, are gone- soaring with the wind- they are trampled upon- obliviated. and our promise is now a distant dream, our potential plain wishful thinking, and the hopes only immature fantasies, the house of sand collapses... trapped living out of time, despairing, wishing to turn back time, the house of sand has collapsed.
