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Out Of The Thinness Of Air & Desolation Of Thought

from From It Pours What Some Call Emptiness by Antipsychocircumseptemsomambulation

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He was composed of the whisperings of a false god
And idolized the usury of begetting,
The proselytism of void-filling
As parts, he knew, all are to occupy The Whole
But he was bound to the labor that will never prevail
And so he journeyed upon the pilgrimage of negation
That the buried mystics who traveled before him followed

He would not forgive . . .
He would not absolve . . .

Upon the summit of the fallen mystagogues he met the "death" that waited for him

His untouched corpse would not rot and enmesh with the others
It was trapped within its tomb of anathema
A pseudo-death would be its final parting rite
While he waited a near-eternity to be freed from his vine-wrapped coffin

But still, he is bound to the labor that will never prevail

He mutters to himself the truths he has learned
When he breathes in the sands of the mountain and of time
And exhales the winds that flow forth from it

If only someone would listen

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from From It Pours What Some Call Emptiness, released November 1, 2016

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Antipsychocircumseptemsomambulation Ottawa, Ontario

Nothingness & Emptiness

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