Kalikapsychosis - "Perfection is what its about. When you can feel, the perfection, of creation. The beauty of physics, the wonder of mathematics all the elation of action, and reaction, and that is the kind of perfection that I want to be connected to" - Sam, hooked into the data stream

The Night seems to walk.
Never hurried like the day,
yet restless still,
It moves.

Monoliths rise about,
stark pillars of stone
moonlit
gravemarkers.

And shrink....To cemetary stones,
no kings here,
or men of noble rank,
endless lines of noone.....

Nobody here and no body there,
where these bodies lie
endless rows of bodies....
Nobody.

Despite the chill of decay,
and murmur of restless spirits,
(full of regrets
they wish their stories told,

but never to be heard....)
still all I see is headstones,
gravestones,
markers.

So beautiful they be,
finely crafted,
gothic and
lovely,

yet they make me sad,
not for the bodies -
who are they to me?
Yet Gravestones....

(markers)
may mark the death of ideas,
dreams,
nightmares,

And in the walking, purposeful night,
theres nothing but dead dreams,
and painful future,
and Gravestones.....