Secret words are everywhere on every raindrop, in every cell, on every fiber and every star.
In the labyrinthine library of incomprehensible books,
every line, every word written, is an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness— spoiling the virgin purity of the void.
Written words are self-quickening. Racing into the abyss without full understanding. they stew and boil and stink.
The void gags and regurgitates them with breath of fire. They burn silently leaving behind only ash. Silence is teeming, nothingness abounds words are insignificant.
So here I am, pencil in hand, lying in darkness, letting the days forget me.
Desert Dweller 