Like dry bones, we await our rising as the sun shines,
as the stars blink in their billions, their proximity in the heart gives us signs.
We are caught in nihilism, as the echoes of our cries run back to us without substances.
We hold liquid realities in dreams and trances.

Like wheels within wheels, every bit in this our every dark existence,
like gasping of breath, we desperately seek essence.
even as victims of collided universes.
Our wills to live are the ignition of lines and verses.

We pant for reality like...