Craving peace found souly in communication.
Searching everywhere, running to and away,
Tearlessly crying, pleading with blueskies, blacknights
and life -
"Let me avoid the Abyss!"
Then He came to gently guide me
Into his realm.
The candle was lit
Forms grew on the wall
Flickering phantasmagoria
Blending insensibly
Conceiving new impressions with essence of old.
The Abyss becomes a Universe.
-CJA March 1968-
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