Plasma Dust

At the end
When it is the end
Dark Liminal Space
Cruel Clock
Tick-tock
Not knowing when
Praying sleep will 
Blanket death
A gift in the night
Art still the passion
Vivid the undone
Blurry the petty
Gratitude the prayer
Now wonder
What will it be 
Or guess
No one can tell you
At the end
You create it
Knowing the end
Meditate, ruminate
Invent, pray
Awareness erased
Body a flame 
Trusting
I am Plasma Dust 
Returning to
The Mind of God.

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