Pharmakeia Farming

You are a garden once bloomed, supple brightness now withered and cold, lost to the eyes, gaunt succumbed to the reclusive catacombs from the daylight and Sun. Lost in the echoes of a forgotten past, a forgotten childhood of dreams trashed in a flushed cache. Memory fades, but faith is forever avast and yet come to be reconciled with a hope that will last longer than dopamine, not a synthetic euphoria gimmick in the blood that causes you to worship iconoclast illusion on the sidelines, committing mopery, idolatry in slow motion swan dive to the street.