It looms as a horizon I can never trespass.
A wake with no ship
That ripples between what is and isn’t
Struggling to have agency over something one cannot control
It runs like tireless horses
That rear up swiping their hooves
In one sense will trample you senseless
And in another, key to future salvation
I have wondered forever it seems
On visions of conquest and empire
And how those curses have befallen
Greater men than myself.
to see now the awakening æsthetic
is nothing more than contamination within my landscape
as a cancer within my soul
that causes the wilderness within to spread.
