Passing through, the visitor mustn’t hold on too tightThe fool opens fire, threatened by the prospect of freedomLet the walls fall, let the yards grow wild; I stand watchPause a moment to listen: the trees are having their say No need to be forlorn, for there is nothing to findWhen the wells run dry, so too will the pixelsAn unbaited hook is still something to be consumed The tired old gaze meets the onslaught of symbolsSo time flies, but it crawls and it lurks and it blazesSee the face of the animal I am before I was bornThe wheels turn and the broken machine churnsSay your prayers and wait to hear the echo from the voidThe superhero has been made redundant at lastChain the doors and let the citadels fall into emptiness
Bardo Burner 