non sens by Phil P RobsonConscious dissolving memory melts, with thoughts
Evaporate to breath, receive, distil, eject.
Inwardly time ceasing, bodies naked, bare, formless,
Thoughtless, forgotten civilisation.
In a self hypnosis, regression recurs a molten past,
Undreamt by those who stare and ask,
Will mountains forever last?
And why ascend those barren paths?
Where stones dwell undisturbed,
And fauna forages for space to sprout
Beyond the clouds, beyond all doubt,
For no fortune, fame or friend to find,
No earthly aim, not even reverence,
Just a breath of air, devoid of any sense.
11/20/2003 Posted on 11/20/2003 Copyright © 2025 Phil P Robson
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