No speculation. A meaningful
dialogue must start, when you
are surrounded by a dust?
belt and fading stars. There
was no resurgence?
of hope. No purpose was put forward,
no incubation was held and
there was a stillbirth every time you coneived.
You strive in violence, in
turbulence. That unsettles me.
The churning throws up
the urn of venom. The followers of
death will seek non-existence.
Within space and void, you wanted
fusion of belief and destiny. The
slow climb of thoughts,
will that evolve the mind further ?