Can't you see we're just animals,
Haphazard,
Sprawling out ends into endless space,
Flailing arms and working hands,
Working gravity to grave?

But still I think:
The thing I pine for is the god
The pining inside me,
The god inside me,
Who is nothing and everything.

Th' infinity I must capture
And finally set free.

The life I love
Is the death I'll choke.
I must love
What is free.