The future of lost hope is reason enough to write
something now
nothing forgotten
everything without meaning
Bones seem a little more tenuously connected
with age certainty becomes less reliable
awareness of temporality
the phenomenality of growth.
every chapter must eventually end
Meaninglessness hangs like icicles on the edge of time
coating every dead branch
with pure cold glass
leaves spent into the wet, dark ground
for a moment they lived with green glory
A wormhole tunnel for worms
greatest imagination of nothingness
providing faster than light travel somewhere
else in time and space
Stone rules if God made it so
anything anyone would know
written on the heart and mind
when the Lord appears in time.
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