Higher goal, higher hill, and the delights of existence of a gun and its first bullet draw images.

Let’s go up the hill,

The place to wind things up,

and

Shut the gun first bullet last.

Nothing remain to achieve,

You got them all, too absurd, too factious.

No tendency,

Pursue you toward finalization.

Gesture of perfection,

Now, you are so high over the hill surrounded by the air, above the surface of earth,

manifesting strenuous obscurity.

Revealing covert criteria,

Oblivion of squandering future,

Be cognizant of vanished future.