Death of Time

Black visage from a withering hold

Fell strong and repelled

Abstracted from his brooding voids

Within its own divided image

Fated still to somewhat succeed

Emergent from its own past

Through the multiplicity of duality

Trauma on the loose, breathing out of sight

Down the rabbit hole, drink to radiance of patient blight

Where our minds come to die for the future

Echo of thoughts and silent suture

Brought into being

Tempest precipitates

Burning hoary

Singing its chords

To the womb

Pouring partial forms

An impulse urged

From the plume

From the plume

From the plume

From the plume

From the plume

From the plume

From

From the plume

From the plume

From the plume

From the plume

Laws of conflict

Each infinite measure

From the singularity

Properties in motion

Contract and expel

Of fluctuation

Where every potential is bound to rebel

Exhale delusion, merge the impossible

Solemn visions that infancy nurtured

Fallen questions on deserted planes

The sounds of impulse in the weeping air

Follow the surge of the glaring despair

In the hunt for a vacant paradigm

The shape of genesis in the wilderness of mind

Unstrung motion of inspiration

The unwritten law and the death of time