Cognitive internal inversions/a soliloquy to the Earth.

The feast of nothing.

A codex of information, I am.
That has befallen from the Nurturing tree,
Has and will, forever remain here.

To scourge the universe for a taste of something,
Has lead me to feast on nothing.

An excursion of pure expedite, that is fueled by my imagination.
A voyage, a toll that requires arduous infatuation.

The hand that rose to allow for basking of the light,
Has fallen and shattered me on sight.

My energy no longer takes commune in others,
But has climbed a solitary ladder.

A place that I know Nothing of, the dove having fallen and synced with the Earth.

I presume I am in a place where I can feast on nothing and forever of.

XPX