It's amazing to watch you wither away and die slowly as your mind explodes softly. It's horrible too though.
It's horrible when I call it amazing. But how can I not?
It is what it is and there's nothing I can do.
Age is your enemy, I can see. It's led you to glassy eyes and faded smiles and you're so confused but everyone calls you the wisest ever alive. Even though you're not. You're not. You forgot your memories and your tribulations and errors when all your friends passed away. Pity too, because your advice would mean a lot. A lot to me.
But the tempest of your mind controls your thoughts and words. All your voice does is add dust to the wind.
It's rather disappointing.