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Michael McGuire
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Omega Point
With complexity as the bait of transcendence,
From light to light we gather the silent calling,
For to simplify our souls to the binary being,
Unto an unreconciled oneness of wonder and woe,
And so we think because it's moving that it's going,
And we think because we'er thinking that we'er knowing.
Chronos rules with a medicinal indifference,
As we jetty to omega-point with an alpha-grace,
The soul-being of this physical despot of desire,
Suns that devour their planets in a hot memory,
And this is a promised land to a waste land,
And this is the crawling away from the last stand.
Oh am; I oh are we the sum of this servitude's shame,
And will we find our gods broken on the market rocks,
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Of alters and egos we broadcast the stranger's dialogue,
To make our insides hurt with the promise of all,
And then to fall upon the prop of which this direction is leading,
And then to feast upon the blood of this vampire's scheduled bleeding.
It is a revelation always arriving,
It is the copulation of merely surviving,
The manifestation of complete emptiness,
The stark liberation of our holiness,
A pure complication of the river-ready,
A mean obligation to its endless eddy,
A bleak fascination with dark machine,
A mortal laceration of what divine could mean.
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