Our veins pulse and writhe.
Details of our existence in close proximity.
The music we create is the heaven you are recalling.
The poetry we write is the Scripture you’ve become inebriated with.
When we combine them, revelations press through your dense understanding of the world.
You hold us in scorn, because we seek freedom from indoctrination.
We’ve become apathetic to your paper god and boorish practices.
The universe sighs in despair.
Sighs at our lemming-like bickering and insincere concepts.
Our veins contract…control.
Time is running out for your deities.
The cracks in the earth will soon implode.
Leaving our human-printed remains to mingle among the star-dust of our true heritage.
Our true selves.
Swallowed into oblivion, as the darkness eats us up.
And then the universe will sigh in comfort.
Because the microscopic splinter that was embedded under its nail is now gone.
– 1985 A.D.