Remember the ring of Infinity.
When the blade drops.
A split second of eternity.
Come to think that I could be an artist so articulate with nothing but a green Bic, gray tape, and the ring of a razor blade.
A wondrous thing, forever must be. Forever being the ring now trapped in memory.
An end never to be seen. Serpentine the tail it eats. Never filled nor is it ever emptied.
Left to choose which life it leads. One of insanity, or to never expect and end to be?
Knowing the truth, would you choose to believe that nothing lasts forever rather than the beautiful product when the blade drops?
The split second of unending that is the ring that lasts for all eternity. Even after all of this time,
that sound has never left my mind.
YOU ARE READING
Oneself Intact
PoetryTruth and promise to myself and those I hold close. A look at where I come from and where I'm going.
