The voice of the voiceless. The image of the imageless.
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“Occasionally there emerges a new voice,
it assembles hidden particles of some infinite knowledge,
for some few it may speak to some place deep beyond the hearing sense,
listen, and understand; this voice emerges for a purpose,
a purpose unknown even unto itself, a purpose reaching beyond the self,
and yet ’tis no more than a single flower,
a tender, temporal growth within infinity’s garden,
and so to yield it’s precious fragrance, requires little more
than rain & manure, and an occasional peek at the sun;
open the senses, enjoy this bloom, and it’s bouquet of dreams, for it is fleeting…”
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