Time propels itself forward,
Word after word,
From cause to effect,
Stimulus to response,
A flickering freedom wheezes away
With every gasp of breath
That unveils the sentence.
At a crucified will that merely dents
The overall frame of things -
A restless soul,
Copulating with a restless mind,
Spewing out thoughts
From a different universe,
Seeking order in a pragmatic chaos,
Choosing words carefully,
From those that remain
From the previous word's supper.
A brightness blinds the Eye,
Demeans it, tortures it,
Just like absolute silence does,
Deafening the senses,
Whipping it with a sense of solitude -
Stuck & carved in it's own demise;
Motion sculpted in concrete.
Till the muse lends a hand and
Chemical waves erupt, engulf,
Like a squeezed out peel of lemon,
Washed ashore, gasping for breath,
Escape isn't an option
But in the surreal;
Words are the only way out
Till the final release,
Into the next stage
Of this eternal video game.
There is a greater light,
One that frees mind & soul.
The end of the search -
A surge that swells and dips,
The thirst that can't be quenched,
Borne not of excess,
but by a constant seeking,
Through a funnel that empties as it fills,
Invading the bones,
The very grains - the whole;
In search of that which completes, confirms
This claustrophobic world, the blindness
That stifles the mind's eye,
Which cannot open but in another world.
It beckons the truth - the elixir
That key to the grand exit.
Meanwhile inside, the shapes get longer;
Shadows darkening the twilight;
A solitary soul cloaked in flesh
Awaits sunrise and unexpected horizons,
Deviant paths unforeseen -
A blind man groping his way
Through the cosmic web, the labyrinth
Woven by destiny, peppered with freewill,
Incentives for an imbecile consciousness.
What can a word choose, except it's own existence
Willed by an alien soul,
Tethered to its position?
Bound to the horizontal by gravity
The search never-ending;
A scarf flying a million miles,
And another million - till eternity,
Never reaching its goal,
A cosmic soul wandering in search of its creator
In the eternal cycle of birth and rebirth;
A speck of bloated identity
Here to play it's part;
A cog in the wheel of timelessness.
How can it cease to be,
Except by being one With the whole,
That insatiable void?
One with existence, truth and meaning;
That infinitesimal black hole
Where there is no thirst,
Meaning itself dissolving into inconsequence,
Devoid of doubt,
That eternal freedom, peace and bliss,
Motionlessness as stone;
The only thing turning
Waltzing with time
At peace with longing,
The source and purpose of meaning
That unknown quantum of solace
To which none but a few have transcended;
To that which is and will be,
Forever and forever
The I beyond the I
The One and the Only
The Uni Verse
So be it...