The absence of false idols is a void at the center of our hearts
A collapse in the middle of a stricken mind
In the vacuum of space I can hear myself scream
The sound coalesces into particles
Irradiated dust swept along by solar winds
I fill the black holes with my consciousness I abhor a vacuum
I create something from nothing … lose … sacrifice … the silence
It’s all in an effort to understand it’s a waste of energy
The seed gives birth to and is absorbed by the forest
The archetype vanishes lingers no longer than a single heartbeat
I am part of the pulse a rhythm sustained through infinity
Hence the beat goes on with and without me
Advertisements
hiding behind the tree genius
LikeLike