The silent tapping assault on my window,
Lets me know the time is right.
The time is now,
To bring about the change,
That reigns atop stormclouds.
War drums crash in rhythmic announcement,
Rushed forward on excited wind,
Lashing at the future with the scent of anxiety.
It is when the armies black out the night,
When the current King surrenders his reign,
That the scene of what-used-to-be shatters,
Broken through with liquid force,
And pure life-bolts’ shredding nihilation.
Infinity reigns down,
Coiling over this spot of existence,
Constantly pulsating-breathing holy water,
Seeping down into the marrow of Gaea.
The duteous natural chaos of changing wind,
Pushes along the black hole,
Farther down the timeline,
Leaving absence in the air,
Making room to breathe.
Infinity Reigns
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Post-Neology 