jeudi 16 novembre 2017

ΑΙΦΟΣ




   I sought nothing waking into the morning, very early without grasping again through out the empty air, brushing invisibly once more something like before, those reddened dying leaves that segment themselves falling to the earth, emulating the original aether on dry ground. Searching nothing as they sink into the wind dispersed upon the world's 4 corners. The immaculate angles of which the Holy contours disappear. 

   A disaster for whom, while all sleep?  Naturally seeking nothing, like a wandering mind, careless in a dead brain. I beseech the squared circle. 



   It's the sincere and single heart watches as the tide of crumbling things moves on into oblivion. This seemly circonstance in an uncomely corridor leading to a goal between a room and a room, dark curtains likes clouds upon the abyss, unrevealing.

   But the particules go amuck. Silence dominates in the desert hills around me. Doom for the body has always been a necessary retribution. When souls collide with false hopes and all mankind of any sort hallucinates.

   Ambitious and dubious conceit hardening the spine against its own salvation! Polygamous among nefarious visions, haunting compassion's forgotten space.

   Who is it has done what evil thing? They're but accidents from Nature engendered nonetheless like fairy rings on a arid turf in the middle of a metal forest; nothing lurks there but bitter sweet nostalgia. Hope doesn't care about anything there.

   Why should a soul worry about what shadows do? The body hurts. But Eros in spite of it, seeks no medicinal remedy, though...it's upon Venus' lap, from where all hardship came. The fault of it moves on continually across kosmic cycles:

    A child's mimicking in dark matter's empty vessel of hidden grimaces? A place for tales. And more history. 

Invention inspires great feats of courage & sometimes glory.
Buts it's all the same when no one knows.