Above the black, I'm trapped beneath the white.
Time slips away, past my distracted sight.
My mind, clusters all of my pain and my fright,
They tangle as one with life's cold endless night.

I reach for stars that used to guide, used to teach.
As I Begged for my cleansing while soaking in bleach.
I trusted in the magic of the moon, now I see.
It's nothing more than a rock, that I know I can't reach.

My Quantum perceptions, once clear as the day,
Elude from my vision, like dreams, they drift away.
Every feeling is just harsh. Each thought runs astray,
My body outlives the suffering my spirit's slow decay.

Hung swaying, for all to see, can't live a disguise.
My Agony is screaming, but at a deaf, silent sky.
Through fractured, foggy lenses, I see only hidden lies.
The cosmos entrapped behind the cage of my eyes.

Emotions do not live past the span of human life.
The universe continues, far past our demise,
To a divine destination. Our progress will be forgotten.
Emotions deemed redundant. Our egos will lay rotten.

All else has true purpose, even without eyes to see it.
Or emotions to feel it. Or belief to give it reason.  
No matter who believes it. Time lives, never freezes.
An endless puzzle shrouded by he, who designed the pieces.

I struggle just to get clean cause my demons are not leaving.
I have fought for a belief, to find there's nothing in believing.
Something stealing all the meaning and replacing it with feelings.
Terrored dreams keeping me screaming, pleading with the ceiling.

There was stillness, all was held in place.
Untouched beneath the world’s design.
Particles drifted in quantum space.
Slates unmarked by hand or time.

Trauma struck as it cracked, it would stir.
The mind betrayed and the self, unmade.
A tremor passed like my whispers slurred.
And from my depths, the void would invade.

fractured pulses spread and came apart.
The fixed quantum law began to bend.
Reality unravels, alongside the heart,
broken strands of thought began to descend.

Screamed echoes take a visual shape.
Waves collide in the fractured pulses.
What once was whole, begins breaking down.
Protections kept, now stripped from their holsters.  

Energies spin untethered, unbound.
The self just dissolves, with no grip to keep.
The sky starts crying with quantum sound.
as shadows stretch by a time growing deep.

The mind, a mirror, shattered and gold.
Reflecting a new empty void from within it.
Each thought disperses and shatters its mold.
Where once was trust, now grows resentment.

A field of force has been left unstable.
Blackening a heart that is no longer true.
Where once was love, now hate fragmented.
The self, adrift. Forced to weather through.

In my withering thought, the echoes still roam.
Their dreamscape heaven has been swept away.
The pulse of life now hardened to stone.
My silhouette dwells in the shades of gray.

And still when my skies cry with quantum sound,
The whimpers of essence frowning frail and thin.
The hope that was pure can no longer he found.
The self is restricted from all it might have been.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

walking down the street                            
the winters day folded              
              settled snow awaiting damage
waking  as the morning fumbles with city residents
                                    and caravans of cars bumble                        
               unused to the tumble and witty wade of it all

my view is unveiled and hearted
simple vision  in fellow with the other senses
but IT'S THEN ! and then (aftershock )    something was altered
something in perception  was marched astray and put to sacrifice
just a tick off from the uncanny flank of lucid
                         and i know something's not right
my readings rank as nudged
       someone wishes me 'off the case'
what did my senses experience
       that could've been entered into evidence ?
i stop in the street and stoop my bags into the drift
why was my report changed                
       so skillfully between the source
                                            and my intake ?
just a single moment    a blur and a splice snip
what was i not meant to observe ?
was the rug pulled out from under it all
even if for only a spilt second ?
did i witness the goings on behind the scenes ?
the agents of governing wealthy illusion at work ?
adjusting the set ?  correcting an effect ?
wizarding our fantastic lives
the grand fabrication
...or perhaps  simply a feeling

From the glass that is empty, overflows divine might.
In the chasm of silence, where new stars may ignite.
As the void holds a state of potential in every instance.
The emptiness is proof of an infinite existence.

Energetic quantum fields, they hold a nothing that is all,
With a pleromatic silence that is actually the call.
Entropy keeps all her secrets, only told in conscious wave.
Each new pattern is stitched from the very fabric of decay.

Potential, though unspoken, lives in every empty heart.
Divine purpose suspended between  light and the dark.
Space and time twist as futures, echoing their past.
Silence holds the truth beneath continuum, born to last.

Silent emptiness, potential for a  limitless creation.
Hearts beat sacred rhythms of quantum contemplation.
A paradox prevails as the chaos becomes the tamed.
Converging bursts of particles blend to a single wave.

The empty glass, a garden. Home of quantum fields to sprout.
In this parodoxic realm, where our dreams  are breaking out.
In the spaces between seconds, whole realities are grown.
Each moment is a leaf upon the tree of this unknown.

The psyche falls apart, but its progression will make whole.
Where the  absence turns into a dark salvation for the soul.
By the frequency of binaural pulses altered, I'm entranced.
I'm the infinite, just waiting, within momentary chance.

In the silence of the mind, creation calls without a sound.
We're adrift in nothingness, lost in what we haven't found.
Yet the glass that is empty holds a hope beyond profound,
In emptiness lives everything. The nothingness, unbound.

And in the space of emptiness, as pure as it is wide,
There's a  potential Divine, hidden deep in the sublime.
Both the broken and the whole, find a home to be embraced,
By the empty glass, to be transmogrified in conscious space.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

No,
not every poem
needs to bloom
with romance
to make a heart grow
full and wise;
There is poetry
found in survival,
in unhappy endings
and goodbyes.
Not every poem
must woo the reader,
or make their yearning soar,
some poems taste
like bitter coffee grounds
and nothing much like love.

©️Lizzie Bevis