This nightmare sequence is a life journey. My life hasn't been nightmarish, thankfully, but yet, this sequence is appropriate. I suppose, set against certain expectations, many lives can have bleak countenances.
Travelling.
These gates are always swinging:
they screech,
squeal at each other.
These gates are jaws;
without partners,
they are harmless.
Now a field of pistons;
here work is the law.
Day and night they strain;
groaning up, collapsing down.
These pistons are muscles
betrayed by humans.
And this is the room of wings;
hold tighter.
These wingsflap, frighten the air;
have pity on the wings,
they have no direction,
only agitation.
Finally space
where molecules disband.
Unmoored
we fall;
terrorized by incomprehension
we scream into eternity.
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