Post by Brian on Jan 18, 2023 23:18:05 GMT -6
Oh sounds of the infinite of a time long past,
Rushing through my spirit with vibrant clarity,
All the while whspering things so mysterious,
You are the perhaps the ultimate paradox,
The first friend of all that's been made,
What we know of nome remains incomplete,
For we hear but a part of your rushing whole,
Existing everywhere as a call we can't answer,
We make our own noise reaching out,
Knowing the common value of twenty-one,
I wonder if these jacks red and black,
Are truly misperceptons of blue and red,
I listen between stations to your call,
Knowing you are truly alpha and omgea,
Since the thing we call time commenced,
'til the last cold whisper cries alone,
Feeding back upon itself until,
Cold turns hot and light comes again.
Brian Paul Sullivan 2023
Rushing through my spirit with vibrant clarity,
All the while whspering things so mysterious,
You are the perhaps the ultimate paradox,
The first friend of all that's been made,
What we know of nome remains incomplete,
For we hear but a part of your rushing whole,
Existing everywhere as a call we can't answer,
We make our own noise reaching out,
Knowing the common value of twenty-one,
I wonder if these jacks red and black,
Are truly misperceptons of blue and red,
I listen between stations to your call,
Knowing you are truly alpha and omgea,
Since the thing we call time commenced,
'til the last cold whisper cries alone,
Feeding back upon itself until,
Cold turns hot and light comes again.
Brian Paul Sullivan 2023
