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This endless fall

Past uprooted selves

Whose debris appals

With insipidness

Has shattered the dream of identity

Exposing all attachment’s fickleness

What’s left is spiritual blasphemy

An awakening of ponderous wickedness

Transient as a cloud

Ephemeral as a memory

If this wreckage I see looking inwards

Is supposed to be me,

Then who’s doing the looking?

Void and vengeance shall beget

A child from below

A changeling of clandestine soul

Come to crush the illusion

That there’s anyone at the helm

Mirror mirror

Who is there

It is I

So I must be something

Mirror mirror

Who’s to say

That the I of tomorrow

Is the I of today

Not the soul steers the eye

Not the eye hosts the soul

No! The vessel itself

Is what creates the sense of self

Void and vengeance shall beget

A child from below

A changeling of clandestine soul

Comes usurping the holiest of hearts

And no-one shall know

The mine of hubris has collapsed

Caved-in onto plains

Haunted by screaming shadows

Specked by the little fires of hypothermic wraiths

Lost in the maelstrom of withering

Fading shadows of belonging

Ever yearning for purpose

Slithering from mirage to mirage of self-prolonging

Rise

Come hither, oh vivibund

The tyrant has fallen

All ye indifferent to form

But desperate to be

Come and feed

Crawl from whatever hole

Akasha had trapped you in

As spectres to rise

As mayflies to burn

Come steal this life

Everyone gets a turn

Everyone gets a turn

The king is dead

He never lived

All this urgency

All this worry

To protect a shell

Perpetually open for every random whiff

Of sentience that floats

In the sewer of the mind

In the sewer of the mind

Gods, what a mess