The elements that make the universe
The same we are made of
Are we connected to the cosmos
Most of the cosmos is empty
And so am I inside
Shimmering orphan orbs
Drifting from pillar to post
Colossal piles of illusion
Streaming worlds of evolution
Yesterday wars silently warps
To mass future profusion
Pulsating
Vibrating
Uncomplete
All changing
Them magnetars
Bipolar flows
Dragging to the great attractor
Bursting
Converting
A Mute phase
All bending
Quasar hubs
Stellar marks
Expanding all the way inside
Seconds are yours, but you don’t own time
Minutes are yours, but you can’t keep time
Hours are yours, but you can’t save time
Years are yours, but you can’t… you can’t…
So lost empyrean
Silent, cold desolation
Winds of when, dust of while
Time no more in lone aeon
So lost empyrean
Silent, cold desolation
Rocks of when, ice of while
So long empyreal
The elements that make the universe
The same we are made of
The desolation of a slice of the cosmos
The desolation inside…