Neuroandum #1

No one can hear the awakening voice
As it calls to the silence for recognition.
Only time will tell if the summons is answered
And the mind emerges stronger for it.
The depths are hollow, but walls of energy
Resound with music terrifyingly sweet,
As if death were a portal and not the end,
A fissure through which worlds unimagined
Beckon to pleasure unendurable
By any life comprehensible to us,
A paradise our fancies could never invent,
No gods of ours on the corners picking fights.
Down, down plummet the walls, ionic webs
And exotic slime coating the surface,
Composing the music in bursts of novelty
Faster than the changes of nightmare faces
Mutating to challenge sanity’s drama,
Provoking the voice to pitches unheard
But never inaudible if it survives
The ever accelerating upward down,
Curious gravity of songs so new
They alter the past the moment they’re heard
And deliver to the present now, at last,
A present feeling can be grateful for
And celebrate the enfranchisements of,
If the voice remind it how much it costs
To descend into flesh in search of thought
Flesh can engender but never survive
Since the mind is a fiction the brain discharges
To defend itself against its finitude.

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