infinite End

I am exhausted with this world.

Patience worn, the stench of death in the air even harder to swallow and burns slowly, deeply

with every breath I take.

Intuition says to revel in the calm before the levees break, close your eyes for tender kisses that do all but defeat the End.

That’s what we’re all waiting for, right?

Squandering away
our life_our time_our earth_our consciousness
to the End
so that we can justify the means.

Where is the meaning in that?
Not the fiscal value, project beyond profit.
Can you not see what makes a visionary?

Reactionary living yields no new fruit.
Plant before the season and forsake rank to progress.

Or continue, fighting wars to kill demons long dead
in_infinite attempts to master the inevitable
we march monotonously along, in file
to the End.



Galicia, Spain.






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