sketches of quintessential

Death poetry

if
some
fundamental
level
of reality

the blurry steps
of the passage of time
limbs moving, solitary breath
dying streams of flesh

darkness with short
explosions of light

everything is metamorphosis
formlessly attached
to the mind

the visible is unexplored
nobody sees the becoming

was
the world
collapsing
into my soul?

the greatest adventure

to have all the
planets in view

to be a leaf

and die like a
son

Nihilistic Poetry

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