Existence Patterns

In passing, circular realms become dust

Faces wither to bone

Affliction given

But in the end forgotten

This is time’s acrimony

Casting a shadow

That wanders

But is never lost

Endlessly expanding

Yet to reach the plateau

With transparent presence

Somehow these silent waves echo

To be aware of this surreal embrace

And in the same moment realize

The fractal forms one shape

Of infinite parallels

Waiting to converge

A serpent’s circle returns in cold blood

Separating the primitive, recycling new meaning

From womb to grave

The distance covered is chosen

The past was never alive

What is will never die

Until this handless clock of chaos stops