Nothing Has A Centre (Mourning Beloveth)

A cancerous day nothing to guide all the monuments of slower aeons sank into the loam even time decays like a razor through creation as I sifted through the bones of a soiled humanity with swirls of light and meaning drained out of the universe a fever dream or a brooding advanced decay? the hollow of night drifts like the slowest sea of all the edges failed every fragment rushed away thrown around the centrifuge of space disintegrating set of cells disintegrate space woven back together with chemical thread cord which makes us live branches run down with bones of ancient stone and roots grow up with the weight of the air interminable ennui a ragged cascade of neurons edging out the roots were so shallow once free to stagnate it slowly drains away to a level that can’t be reached decay non being urging death roots grow down with ancient stone swarms of purest crystal expand reality something high very pure and empty above the lines of light and when we reach the highest point things fall apart in all forms created time passed unused bestial and lonely a gaunt catalogue of bones and hollows the frame tested to destruction as veins tremble and secrete but what if time is the disease an essence of discarded nothing roots grow up with ancient stone interminable ennui branches run down with bones of air cascading neurons urging death decay and non being stagnant relics free to suck the marrow of time or nothing.