All leading to permanent end

Like a deaf man
Living in fear that the whole world is mute
Screaming I am solitude
From the oblivion that is isolation
Spiralling eyes split pupil in distillation
With fact contorted what is fiction
Half truths lied of wholefully
Misguiding bewitchment
Senses fade from faculty
For what is within
Is far grander than that without
All are sharing the conscious creation of one
The first emergence from the unconscious collective
Clung too for fear of Pandemonium
The imagination of a herd are but counterparts
Actors to the author and oblivious of their need
With nothing save the first to spring
To present them with experience
They have nothing once returned is our god
To the spiralling grinder of creation
That unceasing mockery of certainty
The source of all possibilities
Yet beholder of nothing exact
Thy soul is communal
Hence shall communal beget thy soul
All memory lost, experiences harvested
Back to the abyss never to return
The only true loss will be unknowing
For what gods would follow a flock
Which shepherd is lead by sheep
To fresh pastures you can not sow
Shall you in worship devote
As flitting is all you can hope for
To exist is not to create
Beyond the all is I
And I as the all has no boundary
Yet I in the all is forever on borrowed experience
Timelessness saved for the creators
Bestow upon yourself the knowledge of escape
And you are forever entrapped
Entrap yourself in the escape of knowledge
And be forever