“Coming round, coming round”

Coming round, coming round

what is it that watches over me?

there is a something . . .

this I cannot fathom

not in my conception

not in my mind

a fact unfathomable

a large gaping gap

a void in my lap

always with me, but forgotten in life’s breeze

there it sits silently

a side of me I’ve never known

a something “more”

reaching for the void I’m at a loss

my hands fade, grasping does not take place

oh the unfathomable me

the mole of my mind

in a flash I lost it

the echo of my mind

searching so in the vacuous part

I lose myself

yes, self ceases within self

there in that pit, the self recedes

I become blackness

dark and menacing

within my self I am no self

God  help me!

the horror greets me

making the great “stop”

immovable in the blackness

I – that is, me – comes to a halt

there the void dominates me

what horror 

and then . . . in the great dark water

I see a glimpse

a former me, a memory of me

a me that is beckoning in the waves

a self that was . . . or is

unfolding my mind, a new self comes to me

a self I already knew

forgotten in life’s breeze

This entry was posted in Descriptive reflections - non-rhyming descriptive statements and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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