deepundergroundpoetry.com
3+4+5=13
Epic flow of thoughts arises
Isis blessed me with her dome
Moan as she liquifies my throne.
Alone, I speak the essence of Logos
Ouroboros on my neck
Speculatively I tighten the rope.
Grope for my grave and vivify the bones,
Close the line
Time itself dare not to change
Arrange the dots into a form
Conform not to the edge of meaning
Swimming in the sea of ones and zeros ...
Isis blessed me with her dome
Moan as she liquifies my throne.
Alone, I speak the essence of Logos
Ouroboros on my neck
Speculatively I tighten the rope.
Grope for my grave and vivify the bones,
Close the line
Time itself dare not to change
Arrange the dots into a form
Conform not to the edge of meaning
Swimming in the sea of ones and zeros ...
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