Wilfully led in by a chain around the neck
Can’t tell what’s happening
Can’t tell what’s lingering below the surface
So cordially and with expressions of regret
We’re simply set adrift
No sign of cause or purpose
Spires of marble
Crumble in disarray
The flotsam caught in gyres of culture and faith
With soft consent
Our grasps unclench
Signifiers break down into silence
Reason, design; obscured by dispassionate acts
On the ground
And too the inverse from vertiginous vantage
Spiraling down
Isolated and armed with nothing other
Than our fears
Yet in the filthy cave of human expression
We stand united
I can’t face it
I can’t face them
I can’t admit to myself I'm running
I can’t admit to myself I’m running
I can’t admit to myself I’m nothing
Why so senseless
Why this endless
Maze of attrition -- there’s nothing in it
The nihilism and the tyranny
Of the empty set
Starting today
I’m going to shape my life
Into something of relevance
Before I...
I consume all my time
Every action we
Take
All the choices we make that serve to shape
Every person we meet... or miss
The cardinality of the empty
Set increases
No constraints are defined
Boundless in the empty set
We reap what we design
From the empty set
So the cornerstone was placed
And the temple rose to form
We tally the wine and oil
And the thrice great name
Of sun moon and stars
Heralding
The collapse of ritual
Ergo sunwise we inscribe
Our vision
Concentric circles; the silent language sounds
Force of will collapsing rings on themselves
As the spiral turns
The serpent revealed
Consumes all its yesterdays
What do we make when the maker falls away?
What do we save?
Tetragrammatons and salt remain
Artificial lines
As above, so below
Be it metempsychoses
Or Elesian fields
The present’s scripted
For the sake of future earnings
We lead our lives
In shackles to our fear
Wholly ignorant of
Ataraxy
We’ve drawn the lines
And with this arc
The sacred sigil closes
Concentric circles; the silent language sounds
Force of will collapsing rings on themselves
As the spiral turns
The serpent revealed
Consumes all its yesterdays
What do we make when the maker falls away?
What do we save?
Tetragrammatons and salt remain
Artificial lines
As above, so...
Raise up the flag; do it slowly, solemnly
Raise up the flag, this is what you were meant to be
Raise up the flag and make something for yourself