To those who believe they’ve solved the Sisyphean itch,
there will be war on the horizon before you wake.
To the voice inside my head I said so,
what are you in for?
I will go out and do the same, how many more
times after this?
Shall choose between a string in a field,
and the death of a rock.
Only emptiness holds something else.
Which is why I offer no myth in place of discovery.
No final words you can ride to the grave—
I loved her only when I saw her.
Now she’s gone I never stop.
On a planet where molecules evolved I think
it is tempting to personify the world. To hope
we rise above brute need.
But church is only a place to review the doubts your parents believed.
Like the one about how all are one and one is all and
if there is anything then everything must move together.
If the faster we go the slower we advance does
that mean we can ever stop?
Where are you going, I have been so burn
your word dump. If language hurts as much as it does,
go some other way. Disbelief
leads only to a question of you. And a fish upstream
probably likes to turn around one last time.
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