In the Name of All Things Omniscient

Silence screams louder than light,
yet we hang our hats on shadows sunk.
Manuals on the art of breathing
sold by blind clerics in the alley of looped questions.
The echo laments for those who listen,
dissecting Time as a patient butcher.

Questions We Didn't Ask

Q: Why are we here?
A: Because here decided to be, and there became inconvenient.
Q: What is the speed of enlightenment?
A: The velocity of the mediocre, tripled by caffeine.
Q: Can light die?
A: In the persistent shadowed lounge, it opens retirement accounts.
Tangled Intentions
Muffled Beacons
Acidic Dreamscapes