Poetry

The Great Silence, or a great silence

Blue, deep depth of the profound bottle neck,
emptiness that is sublime in complication. Simplicity
swelling amongst forever's murk. A flash of life in the
death of it all when this light precedes from, where? When
existence was designed it was intentional, or perhaps
the hypothesis of the fateful encounter? Maybe. Unlikely in the
heat of the dark that this cold should be all there is. Not a murmur
or a whisper comes creeping past Andromeda, her hush
secludes the Titans. On a plane of existence, there is nothing
that exists beyond, outside a recess. To survive in the deep
is to remain a fossil, to ignore the flourish in the heights. But
to accept is unacceptable, to create a paradox is to live. In a
strive for the absolute, in the bitterness, an absolution. It is
our beauty to never achieve, to invent the profound, and
to die in its search. Such a divine act of futility, to give up
remains a warning. Carry on no further in this unending game, a
charade to eliminate. Allow the silence, let it prevail and
in deafness triumph.

Georgia Haggar