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A Lament
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Wreck and Reference
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1
Breaking up in tiny rooms, suckling on the teat of space.
2
In lucid fields Ive come to pass, in the bottle I do see his face.
3
Mother, have we come to terms, when our insides become unlaced.
4
Knowing that itll come to this, the absolute nothing black of space.
5
Bloody trips in all the world, walled up here like theres a race.
6
Do walls mean we have mottled hearts? Our will continues on the rays.
7
Planets always moving out, spreading at a steady pace.
8
Spinoza, sorry, when fission stands, there wont be god, just blacker space.
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