Fragile cosmos; not expanding but exploding what it wished were a
soulful, solitary display
All of His contemplations;
a quarry of quandry for
which the upper depths of
space are the baseline
Stars, no longer an expression of a
dying Son, ethearalize upon a canvas that can either
crush The Father
or remain
painted on the dark side of the
moon; a face mistaking it's
frown for a grin, nobody to correct him
Of His own volition;
a never-ending shift of balances
throwing Everyone into it's tantric evolution
Shotten wishes, raining onto the unawakened
Hushed gasps collapsing into
vacuous nothingness
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 1:23 AM UTC
Fragile cosmos; not expanding but exploding what it wished were a
soulful, solitary display
All of His contemplations;
a quarry of quandry for
which the upper depths of
space are the baseline
Stars, no longer an expression of a
dying Son, ethearalize upon a canvas that can either
crush The Father
or remain
painted on the dark side of the
moon; a face mistaking it's
frown for a grin, nobody to correct him
Of His own volition;
a never-ending shift of balances
throwing Everyone into it's tantric evolution
Shotten wishes, raining onto the unawakened
Hushed gasps collapsing into
vacuous nothingness
Rambling spurred by an extended mediation on art and why we even create it to begin with.
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