Now what mystery focuses its sights on you,
upon what rejection breaks the conditioned state
Next day memory understands the silences, the waves say in there neutral forces,
lost in this momentary frame of existence. Something's wrong when this wave
forms by drowning the other in its power to reach when there is no ending
There is no measure or line to draw
across this innocent violence,
and the waves retreat to gather momentum,
the design of chaos expends,
but the sand cannot grow.
You are now what earth of this is, dispossessed and aware, only running from responses you cannot share.