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Literature Text
In this place of no-time
In instance of this emptiness
I am born anew
From ashes I awaken
The world has entered
My overexposed consciousness
In shattering moment
Of mindless perception
Echoes of the past
My future selves unrealised
Have fused together
In decimation of my being
I am humble
I’m the walker with no face
In merciless present
In coldness of its existence
All my dreams
All dark feelings deep inside
Have lost their meaning
In this stream of endlessness
I simply remain
In the tempest of reality
Cleansed of myself
In glimpse of the infinite
In instance of this emptiness
I am born anew
From ashes I awaken
The world has entered
My overexposed consciousness
In shattering moment
Of mindless perception
Echoes of the past
My future selves unrealised
Have fused together
In decimation of my being
I am humble
I’m the walker with no face
In merciless present
In coldness of its existence
All my dreams
All dark feelings deep inside
Have lost their meaning
In this stream of endlessness
I simply remain
In the tempest of reality
Cleansed of myself
In glimpse of the infinite
Literature
Abandoned
The stuff of stars never settles;
coming together, then pulling asunder
to drift, to join the ever-quickening race
towards obscurity while being observed.
I walk through cavernous concrete
pathways between skyscrapers,
standing abreast against their self-made
micro-climate, trying to confuse the wind
in my own obscurity, passing
through me like a mental sieve
made of atoms that out-number the
dark matter of abandoned eons.
Literature
Cursed
I am cursed to wander
Without a home
Guided by the stars
And the footprints
Of who I will become
Literature
A Theory of Everything
i
You begin as a point
The essence of nothing
But with two points
We make a line
And the line is eternal
ii
When your line meets another
We cross, as we must
But in our plane of existence
I see only a cross-section of you
And we are flat
iii
You turn your head
For there is now space to turn
And we conceive of the world
And the world is round
But it is still
iv
We are but frames
Moving ever forwards
For these frames are a filmstrip
And the film never ends
Time carries us now
v
You make your choices
And forge your path
And though it splits me in half
I follow you
Our other selves are lost
vi
Lost but not gone
For all that is, was
And ever
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What I describe here I consider the deepest, ultimate experience. It is really indescribable though. And it's not often I even bother to write anything about it. But here we go. I guess a continuation for my previous poems, Me the Nothing, Immediate or Connections
© 2015 - 2024 Elendurwen
Comments5
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This is deep and beautiful. The third and forth stanzas especially speak to me.