poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

The abyss awaits. Real. Fantastic. Incomprehensible. Hold ever so still. Quiet your thoughts. Still even the rushing through your veins. For the thread which holds you is at breaking point. Between the rushing streams of futures remembered and pasts imagined lies a longer now A terrifying present to behold On the balance the fate of us all. The solution is within sight. [4/27/99]
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
All Rights Reserved
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