I have seen the light, the fucking light!
It´s the roots of the kernel clouds off my mind,
in the faultline in my broken soul
and as the ghost of every word i tried to write.
My flame, my flame, what broke the sacred code?
In a cipher carved in heartburning ash?
In a nullminded string of a silent light?
Or in a failed shadow cast in error?

My breath, my breath, why did you not ping?
I lit a candle in the wind and blew out a script
at some crazyodd looking polstergeistfield.
And i throw eidolons in Nevermore
as starlings murmuration syntax signs
of flickering nodes in downunder Overhere.
I decoded love but output came back,
my breath, my breath, why did you not compile?

My hope, my love, my reminiscence, hold my breath
in a recursive stripped down silence of trembling faith.
My hotline, my phoonebooth of dying scripts,
My myself, my myself, my screen of blue death.
My signal, my ping, my meandering selfless truth.
My flame, my luminiscens of recursivness eat my hat
as i stand here as i breeze reminiscent as i luminiscens.
I breath an encrypted flare compiled breath of myself.
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