It exists as a mere concept, and beyond that there is nothing All perception is limited only by the awareness of perception itself Speak, marauder; bereft of lungs!
"This here body is a figment of my wayward finger motion Where truths unnamable occur in different paradigms of time, Space, formless form, and limited accountability. My moment is your aeon, and my aeon is another's moment.
On limbs of a scattered poet my spirit soars
Bury me in a nameless grave! I came from God the world to save. I brought them wisdom from above: Worship, and liberty, and love. They slew me for I did disparage Therefore, religion, law and marriage.
So be my grave without a name That earth may swallow up my shame.
Into the ashen winds, circling above the procession of laughter A profound insult undying in foul response To pitiful riddles posed on an altar constructed from human tongues
So be my grave cold and unknown Poison all roots that may have grown That air may chew on my name renowned That I may die without a sound
I am untimed, creative thought I dissappear indefinitely with each breath of the cosmos."
Reclining thus in seismic wakes Hidden from scrutiny, debate or vision.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
