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tohu va vohu, or the string pulled itself into oblivion

interceding lines, scribbles,
ideas all crossed out
somewhat connected, yet dissonant
within themselves, the art of looking
in between, the searching for meaning
in trivial words, mumbling incantations
hateful objections, glossolalia
incessantly blurted out, no synaptic recognition, impulses
to see the true form you need a context,
structure to stand upon,
take a step away from the page
see the picture for what it is worth
you ramble and rant like a speed freak
trying to push it across like a stone
you're too late now, it is all in vain
the event horizon in your logic
is a sick excuse for ignorance
in the chaotic void there is not light
there is no line to guide the edge to a center
no more within this divide will there be any communication
if you let it slip you will drown in the lies
of all those before you
take a gasp and go under the surface
stare forth upon my eyes
until my shape fades in the blurring waters

Learn more about this author, Evan Fitton.
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