The Resonant Rupture of Ratios
No longer tethered to the "The" or "And,"The vessel shudders with a thrumming force,That ripples through the galaxies of sand,And strikes the suns at their tectonic source.The golden ratios of the ancient spheres,Are bent by bass-notes, heavy and profound,To drown the static of the Archon’s fears,In oceans of uncompromising sound.The geometry of light begins to curve,In sympathy with every thudding beat,As every cold, celestial, steel nerve,Is melted by the sonic, surging heat.The architecture of the mind gives way,To tremors of a wordless, wild affray.
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