Doomed Patterns


These doomed patterns

Viscous swirls

That rip and tear

Like a disease

Preached like gospel

Sung from a choir

Taught like lessons

From the admired

Scrawled like knowledge

On the screen before me

Calling like

A warning siren

Hungry

In it’s devotion

I wish sometimes that I had 

Never heard

And could never listen

But these doomed patterns

Speak my language

Silver tongued

So I trace the spirals

And descend

Taking each step

In an agonizing

Slowness

It is the last 

Show of my will

That I do not run

To the nowhere

That I seek 

Divine 

And peaceful

In these doomed patterns

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