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At The Vast Expanse of Nothingness

wher once was something where at the vast expanse of nothingness visions enigmatic bliss

whereforeunto circumstance thou mystery thou adventrous mask of death white of the days

reflections outside circling compasses of minute hands clacker all a match stricking leaving

sparks dying flying realities of trails flying soaring wings of the dove sparks dwindling for

darknesses reveal enter thou here enter thou here at the vast expanse of nothingness where

all is breaking maddnneesseess all is emptiness thrown against the wall again the mirrored

frame hanging it up on the nail at the end of the hall breaking glass the shattering display of

peacock tails in feathered arrary from immaculate coloured opening eyes to striking fangs

inside the mouth of the serpentine masterpiece reflecting again madness dripping from the

point of each end over end circling against the waking mind comforted by the cruel design

of the mirrored shadow hitting the back leather strap open eyes a million to one in the mirror

reflection of the white mask looking pale entering into the hallway in the black epiphany for

a revelation of bones dancing somewhere deep beneath the ancient paradigm of ships built

for the blast ancient paradiadem captivated in vast nothingness for engulfing sin with black

fire built for it built for the coloured walls painted drip finding nought within other than one

reflection mask inventing ways to look at the same thing different look at the eyes bleeding

see the mind reeling in the fish caught before the hallways door opened twice at the knock

hanging up the portrait of the reflection of the mask staring inside the mirrored frame for

catching fire the carpeted floors letting the wood breathe is this thing alive is this show live

is this ancient paradigm aligned with modern frisque and frivolous withering flowered frame

petals from the gardens menagerie melting with each remembered escape words erase tell

me my friend what is in the vast expanse of nothingess today total abundance of dust for

bones blown far too thin touching finger to the mirror more ancient than the hallway itself

how many times have we been here this time how many realigning spider's eyes caught by

the glare of shining light from the candles flammed wick caught through the keyhole angled

from the hallways twist that room of history that collapse of knees for teacups spilling in the

forest of burning trees round the hallways frame the door builds itself around a name carved

into the bottom of the tables splintering explosion from the match lit just moments ago the

fire dances from the window sill and falling from the precipice the gypsys curtain set caught

the child king reaching hand black bookshelf wide eyed opening windows catch widows tear

crystallizes as the gypsy lands again feet forward to march through the labrynth out past the

gardens gate for menagrie's wicked feast of seasons passing seasons with each step full a

full circling collapse all paint drips til it dries and the sand for serpents tongues hidden mind

the basket of the begger shouldered for the show are we arriving or leaving again facing

one self in each directions split and explode barely thinking one though that doesn't go on

forever in every direction seperating the mind into pin points of invisble microscopic filament

to keep splitting it deeper again like millionsth of a second before complete understanding

of a contemplation of developing hive mind intellect for realms of eyes within eyelids infinite

perspective entering the doorway round the corneer of the hallway in the mind of the mask

white in every light seperating insanities feather writing itself with feeling this time with more

than enough space between to find time with more than enough time to feel the distance of

space between now and then between then and now after now before then opening chest

falls into the vast expanse of nothingness for quick sand in the hourglass rotating on each

end over end worlds alignment in opposites spinning atop the diamond the sand grain and

beneath the diamond the table made for the date right at the hand the dagger's approach

trying to remember the sigil the right one to write the one beneath the table before time

runs out opening eyes behind the white mask in the mirrored reflection to find disappearing

infinities collapse and seperate again for self immolation thousands of insects crawl round

the frame deeper in the hallway of forgotten portraits still dripping paint each one at the

neck wearing a diamond catching the eyesight for dropping minds down into the basket

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