Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2019
It is a
mirage.
Spun up
in a place
unknown.
Everything
seen an
illusion.
Ghosts,
vapors whiffing
in an out
of existence.
Ghosts
in the
machine.
Infinite
iterations running
simultaneously.
Universe one
of countless
churning to
and end,
an unknowable
end.
Universes
populated.
Populated by
unknowing.
Immersed in
something
beyond
understanding.
Beyond reach.
Vapors, moving
in and out
of illusions.
Forever.
Immortal
they be!
John Prophet
Written by
John Prophet
106
   ymmiJ
Please log in to view and add comments on poems