A Marginal Testament to Typical Consciousness
Published in
1 min readMay 21, 2019
We were colors:
Roaming through the underground, the bliss of rain, starting toward sure delirium.
The chemist has arisen, pointing to the bloodbath — a terror. Should the appearance crack or bend?
Resting horizons also blink. Every genuine vortex, along higher thought
temporarily ends.