Title: Optional

Text: I'm turning and turning like a merry-go-round in the marigold grounds I want to see. There's so much to travel and so little time, and solely the time can limit me. I'll fly through the clouds, get lost in the crowds: give me matches, I'll free what Olympus enshrouds! And don't think when Charon unloads me I'll stop. The strings of a lyre, through pain and desire, shall build me a wire back into life. Look back? A fool! Who needs a past when time is no hurdle and the future, at last, is eternal? Each paragraph will be a test.

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