The event horizon
dies on my lips.
The outside of me slips within.

At the edge of a reasoning
this thing that would bring me
to an alternate state
cannot wait and it swallows.
My cheeks become hollows as I **** myself in
and the event shall begin with
a flashing of lights.

When the night turns to spin and the angels pin their hopes
against the twisting of the corner ropes
and the bells do not chime against the rushing of time that races past in glee.
I can see me in a negative
A picture I would give this life for
More and more the night gyrates,waits and then it rushes on
into an inner halcyon
long bygone.

In the end there is no end
no beginning
no point in space in which to face the past.
Held fast the faster that I go
a blurring in a fiery glow and eventually I will finally know
that which was hidden behind the lies.
Then my eyes will rest easily upon
the other side of
event
horizon.