All the world is a hard-worn dream
And dreams umbrae of the veil
Like light damned into fog
Like existence wholly devoid of Will
I am a stumbling mass, of biochemical magic
A pounding upon the block of conation
Sound rippling through space
And movement in the swells of time
When we breathe it is a quiver of the universe
We come tearing like comets of unwavering force
An impetus of aeonic being, origin and impact
Stars settled on existing and yet disintegrating
Within the confines of body and finite organism
Thought perforates now and again; infinity seeps in
So that our voices become ululations of starbursts
Our language a muttering of numbers and vibrations
We are all-force, all-time, all-will
A time and universe in our own right
Risen with the First Dawn and destined for entropic end
But always moving! always in action!
The dream is a dirge and testament
One lifeless and deathless in the void
Such that endless strife is our eternal brand
Striving to awaken, to end our beguiling Sleep
M.M. — 04-Jan-2014
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