nine years after

edge cases are the ones we have to test

the bounds of who and how we are to know

not truly purpose but beneath it flow

with reason and direction to invest

both mind and fortune as at once possessed

before we're dragged down by the undertow

no hope of rescue since our hero's slow

while time is real and out here uncompressed

we need our little lies or so it seems

just to make sense of all the complex tales

read every morning on electric air

as we awake from satisfying dreams

not truly certain that we know what fails

nor why the trees are all now dry and bare