Slow and steady wins the race and yet…
Slow is not the name of the game anymore
teeter totter trippy.
Trippings trappings decorations glistening little globes spinning lighting up the sky
Balls of fire spinning
so far away they’re dead already but still they shine for me
with glee as the death spree of lights glisten in the fabric of the universe
Without matter 4 letters
Vaccuum black fabric like a sack coarse and rough stretched and stuffed with stars and galaxies, Earth’s hue
green and brown and blue
formed in an instant of time yet unfathomable
Difficult problem 9 letters
And so we lose and let loose our minds our humanity what is humanity is it war? Is it peace and love that we so dearly desire or is that instinct, just neurons sending bolts of little baby lightning hoping we’ll survive the Hell we make is it really there for the take or are we just fooling ourselves once more?
So desperate to be gods to play gods yet shirk the inevitable responsibility the consequences are a concept we finite minds cannot comprehend yet, we judge and we curse the deities we supposedly treasure only taking time to hurt it or them or him or her.
Utter disgust 8 letters
We hope we hate we destroy, create for perfect symmetry
Perfection is imperfection and that in itself is perfect. Entropy and harmony supposedly cycling endlessly but chemistry dictates entropy only growing.
Like a leech at a river beach only growing never slowing evolving or natural selection who can tell anymore but still we fight the inevitable plight that is decay.
Time is going ever flowing and yet relative, stopping and starting reversing and hearkening no longer a slave to fear and yet only here can you be seen are you a dream, is this madness ever ceasing to exist or is it a curse I must lift from the face of my own?
Fibonachi’s graph 6 letters
Tumbling and turning, twisting and yearning, desperate for knowlege for learning we crawl. On our knees begging them please only to take what we needed to make ourselves feel great and spit in the face of hospitality. Out of control we decided to mould our ideals to our own minds, forever flawed contradiction the maw in which we draw our conclusions to suit ourselves. Justice is just us and we have slipped from grace, tearing the delicate face not made by our race called moral absolutes.
Falling ever falling