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Here nor there, the echoes proceed

Guided by the turning, burning, intense

unequivocally yours,

undeniably yours.

Fountains of space, crackles of dawn.

Just a nest to raise the dead

But you won’t know, will you?

It isn’t until your passage

that you will believe

Anchors, foundations,

regards for the comatose.

Steel or valor,

pen and parchment.

This is false hope,

and your withering

will bring you shame.

Here nor there,

The echoes proceed.

I’ve seen it all before. The way it eats you,

How it sleeps, and where it shits on your dreams.

Your might is your understanding,

a drive for truth and a faithless doubt

Don’t be aghast of the ending.

From Storm or light,

this abashed realm of creation may bring the

answers after all.