Thoughts arise like drowned muskrats surfacing in a bog.
Empathetic Euhemerists skedaddle in chariots of fine wire, sounding horns of brass. Cornucopia of cupric kaleidoscopic cadences. Horns of brass, city of glass, its leader is fallen, forgotten: alas!
Penguins haunt forgotten lands. Grim penguins with loon-red eyes, harvesting toadstools of forgotten kings. Narcussus-X does not forget, Narcussus-X cannot forget. 'Forget! Forget! My kingdom to forget!' So might cry the prudent king. For uneasy lies the crown that holds the king.
In eerie silence penguins stalk toadstools. Flee, toadstools! Flee! But they flee not.