I reached toward obscure galaxies
Lifting my fingers to the sky
Like a lone, wizened tree
Amnesia's totem
Black sigils carved
Monstrous in scope:
Visible from space
Nightborne cities of gold
Ice and concrete
They can wither
And be overrun
Cloaked by an aura:
I know I will die
Utter powerlessness
Liberation
Constellations awry
A nauseating spiral
From well to well
But here, in the ephemeral
I cannot see far
Surrounded by immediacy
Myopia unbound
Here, in the ephemeral
I cannot see straight
Existence in worthless chunks
Intuition scratched aside
A flint dagger, once used to pry
Now used to obscure and maim
I point accusingly at the uncaring sky
Eschatological exceptionalism
For a brief moment, I forget that I will die
A contumelious de-realisation
An ex cathedra credo of deep power
(Simultaneously, shortsighted onanism)