Flitting and flickering, skipping 'cross reels of form,
this thought's not a thought to be trifled or torn;
'tis the thought from which all others are born.
It is, complete, with neither mercy nor scorn.
Wholeness and vastness, sinking down the abyss,
this thought's not a thought to rejoice for, nor miss;
'tis the thought of imminence -- of 'blivion's kiss!
It is, unending, with neither sorrow nor bliss.
Chaotic and entropic, consuming all in its wake,
this thought's not a thought to leave alone, nor take;
'tis the thought under which all minds will break!
It is, ever-flowing, with nothing at stake.
Jun 22, 2012
Jun 22, 2012 at 1:54 AM UTC
Flitting and flickering, skipping 'cross reels of form,
this thought's not a thought to be trifled or torn;
'tis the thought from which all others are born.
It is, complete, with neither mercy nor scorn.
Wholeness and vastness, sinking down the abyss,
this thought's not a thought to rejoice for, nor miss;
'tis the thought of imminence -- of 'blivion's kiss!
It is, unending, with neither sorrow nor bliss.
Chaotic and entropic, consuming all in its wake,
this thought's not a thought to leave alone, nor take;
'tis the thought under which all minds will break!
It is, ever-flowing, with nothing at stake.