Monday, March 1, 2010

The Torment of Existence Weighed Against The Horror of Non-being

On that night I saw the thought most clearly.
Sharp beneath the shadowed sky.
Death of all immerged deception.
Asleep behind a trail of light, sound in rippled air.

Awoken in that sound of shameless motion.
Sunpierced flashing daggers breathing space.
Drown, damn you, face this muted earth, condense and disappear!

I saw so clearly warmed this gasping for the reborn light become of sound compressed to silence. In that sunset dawn so becoming of new light swept into dark.

Thought so softened into powder, lead to dust.
Composition compost.
Melted strife.

Where an end to an end would fit so snugly.
Sweet blanketed dissolve.

And in each further moment,
waning numbness, molt, cocooned inception,
sleep.