Poetry

[Aureus]

I think this is the only poem I've every written :

Riddled I yearn for the mystery
it speaks with silence and absence
it is its nature for I cannot concieve it
Any notion of progress is deceit
and as the eye hits the mirror
it presents itself in flesh
and the polarity of sanity
Dissolves.


It's not a happy kind of poem, but it expresses the rather unpleasant nature of seeking.