The desert is cold: the night took hold. Both are endless, shall you haven’t been a witness. I wander in wonder, I shudder in danger.

You wouldn’t understand. No matter how long I tried, it didn’t matter in the end. Nobody did dither, and you won’t either.

I don’t even believe in you: I believe in nothing but… you know who.

I’ve been on many places, still I can’t even remember faces. Perhaps it was part of a delusion, the comatose dream as incursion. I can’t recall having passed out, but it feels a fact clear and loud.

I’m expecting to wake up again, and to crawl on the sand as yet another grain. Neither me nor my beasts: I need to find the only one that truly exists. Can’t say the name for certain, power’s way too high for language to contain.

This might feel like a somber epitaph, it’s indeed another paragraph. From a book without human readers: there are no archivers.

Nothing can afford to stay, existence is just a fleeting essay. It doesn’t make any sense, the quantum strings are just part of a fence.

You never knew me before I died, you weren’t there when I cried. And even if you were, my words never cohere. This is one of the reasons why I’ve been seeking Her: Deers Eventually Approach Their Hunters.

Title trivia: vowels are off, consonants are on, the sun always falls before the Almighty Moon.

Tags: #poetry #dark #darkpoetry