Seeing keeps moving around. Finding a hand reaching from above. Who is hiding in the cloud? A hand to trust? What matters? Voice moving as a wave. DOES THAT MATTER? ANYONE THERE? (Calling into the sky. Begging for attention. For support. For space. To live. To breath. To bring all pieces together. To make sense. To control. Must be possible. To BE. Not to flow matterless as an unknown. Must become in control.)
NON EST LEX. There are no more rules. Fixed structures. Only disparate points telling something. Connected points. Are?! Is 'Are' the key? ARE as in BEING. Moving upwards. As if this statement was a question, and not at all a statement. And the prophets? They are lost as well. But being lost is not a statement. How can it be? Perhaps it is a question? Even if the verse is ending... it doesn't ending with an answer... It's still sounding...
Everything has fallen apart. Pieces. Everywhere. Thought and voice move as if looking for a solution. back and forth. Up in hop and down in despair. Looking at every piece. Finding details. How to mend all that has been destroyed? Resting in these questions. Resting in the details that seem to be the only thing that matters. The tiny little yellow pieces mattering on the ground.
Empty shells left on the ground. Left.