The fragments of life were unheard of

 The fragments of life were unheard of. Fragment me, me, me. Pieces that torment themselves getting lost in the fragmented streets. Fragments of rain closed like a curtain of water that refreshes love. The run of nostalgia; I see the running and the fruits of nostalgia germinate in brilliant colors. Obvious fruits of life and juice, flavor and nature.

Sense, then ex-isto as a hypo/thesis.