Bottomless Being
Hovering delicately on the edge of truth and an vague reverie,
A dream that hasn't had time to process a point.
An illusion contorting and molding to suit eloquent eyes.
Peeling away at the frayed edges of right and wrong,
Living in the remains of what is, and what was.
What longs to become and what never had the chance to be.
Like a sea, foaming, the bottom never in sight,
Waves churning and breaking on the premonition that it just is.
That it's an immovable force that will keep breaking and foaming,
No matter what else happens,
Civilization can fall; beings can cease to exist,
And the tide will keep moving,
Living on, pulsing, and breathing,
And being.

© Casey Bacci

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