All is a part of life–and some of those parts–scream in laughter and agony, altogether, as one cacophony: In the seemingly endless, and cold silence of the cosmos, no one cares. No one cares–do you even–dare? Very few, less than nought, indeed. It's an empty experience. It's an empty calm. It's a great terror. It's a nothingness, lil', seed of disease–that we breathe–in every lungful of air. Darkness looms. Harm is certain. Death is welcome. The conscious–the unaware–the subversive and hidden, beneath the stars, eyes stare mockingly. 'F*ck the world', and the w-hole wuld gets a new heir, of ilk–cunning–dangerous, menacing, and insidious; 'f*ck the world', and we might just be, there, at last. Kingdom come, heaven undone. The end?

Revenge is petty;

Love is insane;

What a predicament.

Reason is nowhere.

Freedom to something,

Isn't free to no-thing.

Relativity in the context.

Things in and of themselves,

Irrelevant,

To it.

Wonder,

Bound by ambivalence.

Chains,

Do equal

Judgment,

'y transgressions,

'y inspections,

selections,

'O value;

'ffection.

Mindfulness,

Kin,

To,

Emptiness.

Dissolution;

Absolution.

Honesty (modesty),

Is admittance to violence,

Where esteem has no resort;

Internalized aggression;

Psychopathic progression.

Suicidal attention.

Focus and intervention.

Rationality lingers,

But does not connect.

Martyrs,

self-reject.

Ego,

Builds

And infects.

The pain carries on,

Through one born,

To another adnorned–

Of harm–

And death,

Fertilizing by blood,

In the soaked,

Hallowed grounds,

O' the 'tree of life

And mother nature''.

'–to us part?'

Sinister,

Gawking

Ministers.

New-found,

down,