Life is a guitar, a singing man
stretching like a crack...
It bears Four secret names.
Three appear...
When the moon is the only sound, I hear.
Can the sun and stars fill the empty in me...
I don’t need the room, to make me pertinent.
The straight jacket of public opinion...
Every time you deny the truth,
every time you persuade yourself...
The truth of scripture is this:
you were never meant...
Scrolling through the shouting
Everybody drawing lines...
Oh name
a field of endless contest...
Physics and AI,
drafting humanity for yet another con job...
In the vastness of time,
I have been allocated this space...
So much has come and gone for me.
At the foot of the mountain once again...
Here I am, armed with my pen,
its ink running low. lifespan...